Out of Control
by BroodingOne
Summary: Professor Severus Snape has gone too far and Neville Longbottom finally fights back.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I plotted this along Neville's fifth year—when you actually see some changes in him—but of course I'm not following the darker side of the book.What would happen if Neville got really pissed? Here's the result… enjoy!

* * *

Chapter One: Neville's 'Gonna Get It. 

"You call this the Draught of Peace?"

Professor Severus Snape sneered at Neville Longbottom's cauldron. It had turned a murky brown and closely resembled a bubbling burping mass of mud. It might have been the right consistency for a Polyjuice Potion but alas, this was not suitable for the Draught of Peace which required a bit more skill and patience.

Patience was something Severus Snape was losing fast.

He continued his seething rant over the stinking cauldron, it smelled like dirty diapers. "Pathetic…"

Severus dipped a ladle and drizzled the clumpy mixture so everyone could see it. "Absolutely worthless!" he hissed and dropped the ladle back in.

Severus turned abruptly to the Longbottom boy.

"I know it's too much to ask but could you at least get your head out of your enormous backside and pay attention in class?"

He strode to the other side of the boy, hearing the whispers from the Griffindors. No doubt they would lose points once more.

"Ten points from Griffindor for your disgusting attempt at potion making."

The boy looked beside himself and was turning red, probably from embarrassment but it wasn't Severus' concern.

Professor Snape took once last dismal look at the cauldron, holding his nose at he did so, as the Slytherins laughed out loud. None of the Griffindors said a word but Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger could see Neville balling his fists and shaking uncontrollably.

"Um, Professor?"

Hermione raised a hand but was gruffly silenced by Professor Snape.

"I don't want to hear any excuse from you _Granger_. Not even you could help this unfortunate case—or the potion."

Several Slytherins laughed at that, especially Draco Malfoy.

Subtlety was Severus' strong point and he noticed everything. From the smallest details of potion ingredients to their look, scent and tastes. He knew each one perfectly and nothing escaped his scrutiny. Unfortunately for Severus, what he didn't notice and what had escaped his normally acute senses was Neville Longbottom's flustered appearance.

The boy's face was going purple and he looked like he was having an apoplectic fit. His face was sweating and his knuckles had turned white from clenching them so hard. There was also a vein in his forehead that looked ready to burst.

If Harry hadn't known Neville better, he would have said Neville looked just like Uncle Vernon whenever Harry accidentally mentioned the word Magic in the household.

Hermione also knew Neville and felt especially sorry for him because he was always the brunt of Snape's scathing remarks and it really wasn't fair because Neville was a sweet, shy, chubby boy who really didn't need someone like Snape to pick on him.

Ron knew Neville but had never seen him this angry before. In fact, if Ron hadn't known Neville at all then he would have said Neville was going to punch Snape right in his big hooked honker.

It turned out they may not have known Neville as well as they thought.

A piercing scream suddenly filled the dungeon classroom and at first everyone thought it had come from Neville, who had finally lost it. But they were wrong as they saw to their horror, it was Professor Snape who had screamed.

Severus had been leaning over the cauldron after silencing the Granger girl to the amusement of the Slytherins when he felt a sudden forceful push on the back of his head. At first he thought the vein in the back of his head had exploded from stress but he was wrong.

Professor Snape's head had been dunked into the cauldron—by Neville.

Everyone let out a gasp before Professor Snape yelled through the muck covering his face,

"FIFTY POINTS FROM GRIFFINDOR!"

When he emerged from the cauldron he looked like some gory creature from a bog, a very smelly bog. The gloppy goo was running down his face and was dripping onto his robes.

It was quite a spectacle and it looked like he had mud for skin which was falling off.

For a moment no one said anything or even breathed and they could all hear the sloppy _plop_ of the mixture falling off Professor Snape's face.

Severus whirled around to face the little bastard as the stinking potion-gone-wrong dripped all over his face. He furiously wiped it off and flicked it off his hands. It stunk so bad and now it was all over the front of his robes.

"_Detention for a month _Longbottom!" he snarled.

He spat out some potion that had got in his mouth and stifled a gag as he made his way to his desk.

"_The rest of you finish up and bring the samples to my desk_!"

Neville stood there lost for words and he looked toward Harry, Ron and Hermione who were across the table from him.

Ron gave him thumbs up, so Snape couldn't see and Harry was trying desperately to stifle a laugh. Hermione was too shocked to do anything and the look upon her face mimicked Neville's own terrified state of mind.

He hadn't meant to do that to Snape. He didn't know what came over him.

Now he was going to go to detention, for a month, with Snape.

----

Neville's detention came the next night but it was too much to hope that Professor Snape's rage had cooled off any. Neville was going to be stuck with him all night and he wasn't looking forward to the task ahead of him.

"You will start with the ingredients."

Severus pointed to the shipment of toads that had come in, all were dead and ready to be gutted. He smiled a satisfactory grin as the Longbottom boy gulped.

"After that you will sort those jars," he indicated the newly pickled slimy creatures that he liked to collect just for fun before continuing, "then you will scrub the cauldrons until they are _absolutely spotless_. Do I make myself clear Longbottom?" Severus turned swiftly to the boy as he shyly looked up from the ground and was pleased to see he was a bit green as well.

"Yes, sir." The boy answered.

It had taken over three hours to get it done.

Neville had to carefully slice open the toads, which made him sick, then pick out the entrails and sort them into the proper containers.

"Not that way, you idiot! You'll ruin the supply I just ordered! Don't waste it!"

Professor Snape's admonishments were never far behind as Neville worked tirelessly.

Neville had dropped some of the jars of the pickled creatures and Professor Snape wouldn't bother to repair them with magic.

"That's another rare and exotic species you have lost me, boy." Snape scoffed.

It wasn't until midnight that he finally got started on the cauldrons.

Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, reading some large moldy books and was scratching on his parchment with the black quill feather. Still, he must have had eyes in the back of his head or was a really good mind reader because as soon as Neville was done with one cauldron Snape would get up and check on his work.

"That's not clean enough. I said _absolutely spotless_! I still see stains and crusted sediment on the bottom and the sides. Do it again!" Snape stood over him as he worked.

"Stupid boy. You can't do anything right. Does nothing penetrate that thick skull of yours? It probably runs in the family, no doubt. I wouldn't be surprised."

Severus paced around Neville as he worked and gave an amused smirk as Neville suddenly bumped his head on the cauldron he was cleaning while it was on its side.

"Shut up." Neville whispered.

The smirk immediately left Severus' face.

"_What did you say_?"

"Don't say anything about my family."

"I didn't." Severus hadn't realized the boy was paying that close attention.

"Yes, you did!" Neville clenched his fists.

"What did I say?" Severus sneered.

"You know what you said!" Neville shot back.

"I can't keep track of everything I say to you…" Severus walked toward his desk.

"You said my family was stupid." Neville mumbled.

"I was only stating the obvious."

"My family is not stupid." Neville started turning even redder than he had been while he was scrubbing the cauldrons.

"You must be the exception then." Severus hissed and ended the discussion right there. "Get back to work, you still have thirty more cauldrons to clean—no magic!" Severus sat in his chair. "Not that it would make any difference." he added.

It was nearly two o'clock by the time Neville got to bed and he was sore all over but he felt so riled up that he couldn't get to sleep right away. All he could think about was Snape's greasy face sneering at him with his cold black eyes as he insulted Neville over and over and over…

----

"You have to do something Neville."

Hermione was chiding him again, not that he needed it, he had had enough already.

"You should talk to Professor McGonagall. She can put a stop to this nonsense."

Neville shrank back. "No, I don't need anyone defending me."

Previously he would have welcomed the extra help but now it seemed every time someone tried to help him it made him feel—weak. He needed to do this on his own.

"As long as I don't make any more trouble, I'll be fine." He hurriedly got his books together from the common room then remembered he had left another book upstairs in his room and had to rush to get it.

When he came back Hermione was still nagging him.

"You're facing detention for a month, with Snape! There's no way you _won't_ be in trouble somehow. You know how he loves to make everything difficult for you, especially you." Hermione had her books all ready and was stepping out of the portrait with him.

"I wonder why Snape does that to you?" she added pensively.

She then answered her own question which only annoyed Neville more. "If you stood up to him, he wouldn't do that to you!"

"I know Hermione! But you saw what happened the last time I did something—He was covered in goo and then Griffindor lost fifty points and then I got detention for a month!"

"Well, I didn't mean dunk his head in the potion." Hermione finished lamely.

----

It was coming out of divination class that Neville heard his name being called.

"Hey Fatso!"

It wasn't really Neville's name but he knew that was the name he was called when it was called by Draco Malfoy. This time he didn't have time to hide because he was on his way to Magical Creatures class.

"Going to pull another stupid stunt in Potions again are you?" Draco drawled as Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind him.

"No." Neville mumbled a reply and tried to step around Draco but it was no use, his faithful bodyguards blocked the way and Neville had to give up, as usual.

"Professor Snape should have expelled you for doing something like that." Draco stepped forward and intimidated Neville back to the wall. "It's only because that fool Dumbledore needs to keep his loyal students around, all the mudbloods and squibs. You're almost a squib, aren't you _Longbottom_?"

Draco always used that emphasis on his last name and it really started to annoy him. More than that now, Neville realized, it was staring to anger him—a lot.

"Stop saying my name like that."

"What? Isn't that your name, _Longbottom_? I think it's fitting really, seeing as you have such a _long bottom_!" Draco laughed with glee at his own stupid joke.

"Stop it." Neville warned.

"_Longbottom_! HA! I bet the whole bunch of your family are a bunch of _Longbottoms_. Get it, _long bottoms_?"

Neville felt the anger rising to his face and he raised his clenched fists.

"The whole fat stupid lot of them!" Draco turned back around from snickering with his two stupid pals when he saw Neville's fists in the air in front of him. "What's this? Are you going to hit me?"

That's just what Neville did.

An anguished scream filled the hallways and a Prefect came running over.

"No fighting in the hallways!" It was a Ravenclaw girl and she did a double take at Draco lying on the floor and Neville standing with his fists still raised. "Uh, I'm going to have to report this to your head of houses."

She still seemed surprised but not as surprised as Crabbe and Goyle who stared dumbly down at Draco who was nursing his bleeding nose with his robes that were now very bloody.

"All right. Malfoy, isn't it?"

Draco groaned and nodded slowly.

"Hospital wing. One of you go with him, the other one report to his next class about what happened."

Crabbe and Goyle stood in confusion as they both tried to figure out just which one of them would stay with Draco and which one of them would go to the next class.

The Ravenclaw girl sighed and pointed to Goyle, "You, go with Malfoy." She pointed to Crabbe, "You go to the next class… you know which one it is right?"

Crabbe only looked more confused.

"It's Care of Magical Creatures next, we share the class." Neville spoke up.

"Right then. Go on." She turned to Neville and ordered, "You come with me."

Neville felt his stomach drop but nodded.

It was lucky really that the Ravenclaw Prefect had come along, if she hadn't, Neville would probably be on the floor being kicked by Crabbe and Goyle, once they figured out how to avenge their ring leader. It very well could have been Neville going to the hospital wing, instead of Malfoy.

He didn't think it could get any worse, he was already facing detention with Snape but he was wrong.

As they came to Professor McGonagall's office Neville felt an ominous foreboding and knew for sure he would probably be expelled or worse yet, his grandmother would receive an owl.

How could he have forgotten that?

----

"This is unbelievable."

Professor Minerva McGonagall was storming around her office and Severus was severely tempted to trip her just so she would stop that infernal pacing.

"I just thought I should make this clear to you, Minerva, that Longbottom boy assaulted _me_ and _my student_. I don't see why it's suddenly _my fault_ that he has lost control of himself and has gone on a destructive rampage."

"You should have seen this coming!" McGonagall finally stopped pacing but was now glaring at Severus which wasn't an improvement in the situation at all. "You've always taunted him and pushed him over the edge and his unstable mind and fragile state can't handle it!"

Severus noticed an annoying edge in Minerva's voice, as if she were, god forbid—about to cry.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Severus scoffed. Fragile state of mind indeed.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on in your class, Miss Granger has informed me—"

"_Miss Granger_?" he hissed and sat up in his chair. "Miss Granger should know that this does not concern her and she would be advised to shut her insufferable yapping mouth and mind her own business!"

"How dare you!" Minerva was frigid with indignation.

"It's not as if I insulted _you_." Severus crossed his arms and asked, "Anything else you wanted to tell me about Longbottom?"

"Yes, Dumbledore has told me to tell you—"

"Why couldn't he have told me himself?" Severus interrupted.

"Because he is rather busy at the moment!" Minerva did _not_ like being interrupted and continued with a sniff, "You are to help Longbottom control himself—"

Severus barked out a derisive laugh.

"If you do not," Minerva warned, "then it may not only be Longbottom who is expelled from this school."

Severus suddenly choked on his own spit and coughed, "_WHAT_?"

"This is serious, Severus. Who knows what may happen? Violence is only the beginning, if something more were to happen—"

"Like what?" he interrupted once more.

Minerva gave an exasperating sigh and continued, "if Longbottom begins to assault teachers then other students may rise up and it will be a greater threat to this school to allow such disruption to continue." She looked very grave but Severus caught on to what she was saying.

Monkey see monkey do.

Longbottom wasn't a threat but more like the domino at the beginning of the line. It would only take one flick of the finger to set the others in motion as they tumbled down, one by one. It wasn't just Longbottom they had to worry about, there were other students at this school who would love the opportunity to strike back at the teachers. Severus wasn't going to let that happen.

"All right, I get it!" Severus emphasized.

"Good." Minerva's face set itself into a smug expression as if she had just settled an extremely simple transfiguration question.

----

"You're not doing it right. What did I tell you before?"

Professor Snape stood over him as Neville sorted the lizard spleens and entrails. He had to cut them carefully at just the right length and if he cut them too hard, he ended up squishing them as black goo squirted out from them.

"I'm trying," he sighed.

"That's not good enough!" Snape snatched the knife out of his hands and started to splice the spleens into perfect lengths with amazing speed. Neville kept his fingers out of the way, just in case his knife should slip—on purpose.

"Do it again and don't mess up!" Snape slammed the knife down onto the slime covered table and Neville winced.

He slowly picked up the knife again and started his work once more.

It slipped and Snape swore.

"Damn you!"

Neville started to cry, he was really tired now and was up since early this morning with Filch for his other detention. McGonagall's reputation for being fair seemed to have been a joke. He was also upset about the letter from his grandmother this morning—it had been a Howler.

Snape was running his hands through his hair and pulled some strands out, he flung the bits of hair off his fingers then stared at Neville as if he had never seen something so pathetic in his life.

"Why are you _crying_?"

"I'm not!" Neville brushed his robes against his face and nose as he sniffled.

"Oh for crying out loud! You're pathetic!" Snape had his hands on his hips and stared Neville down. "If everything I happen to say to you offends you so much then you're not going to last long in this world." Snape continued, "You should toughen up and grow some skin—although I'm sure you have plenty of that already—"

Neville punched him.

It took a moment for Snape to regain himself but he answered, "Another fifty points from Griffindor for assaulting a teacher!"

Snape held his black eye and to the amazement of Neville, didn't hex him to his grave.

"You need to learn to control yourself." He went to get a cloth then put it under the icy faucet. "Being out of control and taking your rage out against others is a sign of weakness—you don't want to be weak do you?"

Neville shook his head.

Snape slapped the wet cloth to his eye and winced. "Then you need to learn self-discipline. Unfortunately," Snape's lip curled, "I'll have plenty of time to teach you while you're serving your detention."

Neville nodded slowly. He counted his blessings that he wasn't dead already, though if looks could kill then Snape surely would have killed Neville by now with the look upon his face.

It was going to be another long night.

----

A/N: This story was getting long so I decided to split it into chapters. Sorry about the reposting but I thought I should clear up the time change between characters and settings.  
Next chapter: Someone gets poisoned, Neville makes a mess of himself and a strange new creature appears.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Snape's Insecure

Severus cursed himself as he headed down the dungeons to his next class. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night and it was all because of that damn Longbottom boy.

It escaped him how he hadn't cursed the boy into oblivion but then again if he had he would have lost his job and he definitely needed that right now. It wasn't as if he had any other occupation to go back on. He really wasn't suited to be an Auror, although his Potions and Dark Arts knowledge placed him superior in that rank. Severus supposed he could always work at the Apothecary but they rarely hired any new workers (the clerk at the desk had been there since Severus started his term at Hogwarts) and they were just so damned _cliquey_.

He stormed into the classroom in his usual bad mood.

"We'll be working on anti-dotes to see if you remember anything I've taught you so far." Severus paced along the front of the desks, staring everyone down. "You'd better because I'll be poisoning one of you today but I'm not going to say who that will be because you are not allowed to ask for help from your classmates." He gave an unpleasant smile. "_Begin_!"

It turned out to be little Colin Creevy who was the lucky one to be poisoned. The poison worked rather fast however, because of his small size and Severus had to quickly pull out his own vial of anti-dote and force-feed the vomiting boy who had fainted at his feet; he was convulsing violently. It wasn't an easy task to do but the boy managed to choke down the anti-dote as Severus wrenched his mouth open. As the boy lay there, shaking a bit, he decided to use the extra time to lecture to the class.

"Take note how the poison can have a quicker effect on those with abnormally lighter body weights." Creevy spitted up some anti-dote but Severus made him swallow it back down. "You would need to administer the anti-dote immediately, assuming any of you manage to get it right—which none of you did in time! Twenty points off Griffindor for your poor timing!"

It was certainly one of the most absorbing—if not almost deadly lecture anyone had had so far.

----

Hermione was in the common room with Neville trying to practice with him some ways to help control his temper.

"Now just remember what I said to you. Repeat."

"Ignore them. They're not worth it. They are just insecure." Neville repeated.

"Right. Just say to yourself, _Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me_."

"Sticks and stones… right." He nodded.

"Anytime someone _does _get to you—just count down from twenty, take a deep breath and let it out." Hermione demonstrated as she took a deep whistling breath in and let it out, puffing her cheeks—she looked like a chipmunk.

Neville started to laugh then managed to straighten his face. "Okay."

----

He felt confident and reassured. Hermione's advice to him was just what he needed and he felt nothing could stop him now. That was until he reached the door in the dungeons classroom.

Snape was already there standing in front of his desk, tapping his foot impatiently.

"You're late," he hissed.

Neville checked his watch, he had forgotten to wind it and it had stopped at a quarter to six. It was just what he didn't need to start off his detention and it got a lot worse.

Snape made him start pickling the eels. He had added to much sulfur powder and he had spilled it all over the counter he was working on. It burned his hands and he washed them off in the stone sink but Snape was there immediately, though not to help.

"You idiot! You never learn do you? Clumsy oaf!" Snape snatched up the remaining jars, the ones Neville managed not to spill, then opened them.

"There's too much sulfur in these too!" He poured out the contents and slammed the jars down, one by one, then turned to face Neville. "If you can't do anything right the first time, don't keep repeating your mistakes by moving on to the next jar! You must check your work to make sure you've done it right—but I doubt you can even do that, can you?" he ridiculed.

Neville looked down at the jars and wiped his wet hands on his robes. How was he ever going to finish if Snape kept throwing his work out each time? He started again but Snape stopped him.

"Use fresh eels, get rid of those in the sink and do try not to screw it up this time!"

"I'm not going to screw it up!" Neville shouted, "Maybe if you would quit picking on me I wouldn't mess up so much!"

"Oh, am I picking on you?" Snape got right into his face. "I'm so sorry. Perhaps you would like a tissue to wipe your snotty-pathetic face with? Are you going to cry now?"

Neville mumbled something under his breath and Snape bent his greasy wax-clogged ear toward him. "What was that? Were you actually saying something to me?"

The jar in his hands slipped and fell into the sink with a shattering noise but he didn't bother to clean it up just yet, he was afraid he would cut himself because his hands were shaking so badly.

"Stop it."

"Make me." Snape dared.

Neville closed his eyes and tried very hard to think about what Hermione had told him. Her words seemed very distant just now but he scrunched his forehead in concentration and mouthed the words, "They're not worth it. They're insecure."

"What are you whispering?" Snape snapped his fingers and Neville's eyes flew open, breaking his concentration.

"You're insecure." Neville shot at him and braced himself for impact.

Instead Snape just laughed, a cold short, mirthless laugh. "What makes you a judge of that?" He stood over Neville in his full height, intimidating him. "What would you know about me? You pathetic, useless, stupid good-for-nothing brat!" he spat.

Neville mumbled, "Sticks and stones…"

"What was that?" Snape leaned his oily face toward Neville and bared his yellow teeth at him.

"Sticks and stones will break my bones but—you'll never hurt me." Neville said.

"Oh, I beg to differ." Snape retorted. "I can make you feel pain you've never felt before, if I so choose. Believe me, what I can make you go through is _nothing_ compared to the world outside. It's a cruel, cruel world boy and there's nothing you can do about it." He stormed back to his desk and Neville resumed pickling the eels.

His fingers were bleached and dry by the time he finished but he was sure he had done it right this time.

As usual, Snape came around to check his work. He opened the jar Neville had just finished with a pop then put his big nose inside and took a sniff.

"Now I can hardly smell the sulfur, did you put any in it?" He snarled and dipped a finger into the grimy broth to taste it and then spat it out into the sink. "You didn't use enough!" Snape just threw the jar into the sink and it broke, spilling out the eel and broth that Neville had spent a half-an-hour on to make right.

That was the last straw and Neville could feel the familiar rage bubbling up inside of him. But he remembered Hermione and thought how disappointed she would be if Neville lost control again. She wasn't the only one who would be disappointed.

Neville started to hold his breath, counting down from twenty as he clenched his fists. He wasn't going to let Snape get to him, he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, not if he could help it. He lost track of where he was counting down and started again, still holding his breath. He could feel himself going red in the face from the effort and he was feeling dizzy. His lungs started to hurt but he wasn't going to give up. He was going to show Snape his total self-control if it was the last thing he did.

It was.

The world went black, along with Snape's furious face, as Neville fell to the ground with a heavy _thud_.

----

Severus had seen lots of students faint in front of him. Often he was the cause of it but he had never seen a student faint from holding their breath.

"_What the hell?"_ he cursed.

This was not going to help matters and was only going to make things worse with Dumbledore.

_And that blasted McGonagall_, he thought to himself.

He cursed again and went to get some smelling salts. Damned if he was going to have to drag that blasted boy all the way to the hospital wing at this time of night.

What would Madame Pomfrey think? He could hear her now, _"What have you done to that poor boy? You need to stop scaring your students!"_

It wasn't the first time he had made his students faint.

He bent down toward the boy, shoving the smelling salts under his nose.

"Wake up, damn you!" he shook the bottle, not that it helped any.

It took a while for the salts to have their effect but the Longbottom boy snapped awake as his eyes fluttered open. He gave a weary moan.

"Get up," Severus sneered. He stood up, with great difficulty due to his knee joints and stared down at the boy.

He slowly turned himself over and was braced on his hands and knees then said, "I can't. I still feel dizzy."

"You'll get up or I'll make you get up! Moody's not the only one who knows the Imperious Curse." Severus drew out his wand and this seemed to speed things up finally as the chubby brat heaved himself up to a weak-kneed standing position, though he swayed dangerously on his feet. Severus gave a nasty smile then ordered, "Now clean the mess up in the sink."

Slowly, the Longbottom boy turned around to face the sink but Severus saw his eyes bulge and heard the boy utter a sickening gag. He quickly shouted, "DON'T YOU DARE!"

But it was too late. The boy had thrown up and of course, he had missed the sink.

The floor was covered in vomit and the awful smell mixed with the suffocating sulfurous mix in the sink (the very same smell that made Neville sick) as Severus felt he was going to lose his dinner as well.

"UGH! Enough!" he pointed his wand at the mess and spoke through his sleeve, _"Scourgify!"_

The mess was cleaned up but a faint smell lingered.

"You disastrous boy! Just when I think things can't get any worse, you prove me wrong…"

Severus walked back to his desk as the boy clung to the edge of the sink, still gasping and swaying.

"Get out! Just get OUT!" he swatted at the air. The boy was going to drive him nuts if he stayed here any longer. He would have to serve the rest of his detention some other time.

The Longbottom boy stumbled out of the dungeons classroom and past the door where Severus heard him upchuck once more.

_Oh well_, he thought to himself, _that mess is Filch's problem now_. He made a mental note to himself not to slip on the vomit on his way out.

----

"How are you managing detention with Longbottom, Severus?"

Dumbledore was staring at him with those electric blue eyes, trying to read his thoughts. He looked away quickly and straightened the bundle of parchment scrolls that he was going to correct before his next class.

He had hid in Dumbledore's office (though he would never admit this) to get away from the sickening Umbridge woman. Severus gave a shudder as he imagined that woman marching to his own office—in her lurid pink robes with ruffles and bows—as she was bent on questioning his every move. Pink frills made him break out in hives.

"I'm managing well enough, though I doubt even an Auror could handle the disasters that boy can conjure."

"Glad to hear it." Dumbledore smiled and Severus stared blankly at him.

"You already know what happened, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," he replied languorously.

He resisted the urge to rip up all the parchments in his hands and asked instead, "Then why did you ask me how I was handling things?"

"I value your opinion, Severus. Your point of view is very important. And if I may add my tidbit as well…"

_Oh great_, Severus thought to himself and braced himself for the inevitable. _Here it comes..._

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"I think you're doing a splendid job."

Severus just stared at him and wondered (not for the first time) if Dumbledore was really off his rocker. But then again looks could be deceiving.

"Why weren't you here to tell me about controlling Longbottom? Why did McGonagall have to relay the information to me?" he asked suspiciously. He wanted a straight answer from Dumbledore.

"Ah, I was inconveniently absent because of a shortage of Lemon Drops." Dumbledore said no more as he had simply folded his hands together and stared at Severus.

He should have known he wouldn't get a straight answer from the crooked-nosed old man.

----

In the Griffindor common room Neville, Hermione, Ron and Harry were there along with Ginny who was playing with Crookshanks near the fire. Ron and Harry were playing chess, Harry was losing but he wasn't paying attention because he was listening to what Hermione was telling Neville.

"Oh Neville, I didn't mean for you to hold your breath _then_ count down from twenty!" she gave an exasperated sigh but she continued when she saw the look on Neville's face, "Don't worry, we can try something else."

"I don't want to try anything else. It's just getting worse." Neville buried his head in his hands on his knees. It was bad enough they had to hear what he had done last night and he was lucky he didn't have detention again because it was Sunday. He had needed a rest and McGonagall had told him to take the night off but also to _"Stay out of trouble, for goodness sake!"_. Snape had also given him the night off, which was equally mysterious but Neville was grateful.

"Don't worry about it—checkmate!" Ron had no sooner said this before his queen smacked Harry's knight off the board with her scepter. He turned back to Neville and asked, "Did you really call Snape an insecure git?" he smiled broadly.

"I called him insecure… but I shouldn't have said it because he just got madder." Neville gave a jump as the fire popped.

"Well, it won't be too much longer. It's only a couple more weeks. You'll survive." Harry cleared the injured chess pieces off the board and took a closer seat to Ginny.

"That's what you think," Neville muttered.

"Whenever the Dursley's get on my nerves I just try to think of something nice like visiting Ron at the Burrow and coming back to Hogwarts." Harry nodded and stroked Crookshanks' long curly hair as the cat lay on his back.

"What could I think about?" Neville thought hard but he couldn't come up with anything.

"Food!" Ron offered but Hermione shot him a dirty look. "What? Food cheers _me_ up…" he defended lamely.

"Quidditch!" Harry said brightly.

"I don't play and flying makes me nervous. I don't even like to watch it." Neville shook his head.

"I know, just think about your other classes. You'll be so busy concentrating on that, you won't have time to worry about Snape." Hermione beamed and crossed her arms as if to settle the matter but Ron and Harry shot her a dubious look. "What?" she asked.

"But I'm not good at anything, except Herbology and I don't think that will take my mind off Snape." Neville sighed and everyone was silent for a while before Ginny started giggling then burst out laughing.

"It's obvious!" she giggled, "Just think about that Boggart of Snape in your grandmother's clothes!"

"Oh yeah," Neville mused, "That was pretty funny." A smile crept onto his face as Ron and Harry started laughing along with Ginny.

"Well, I guess that will work too." Hermione seemed a bit disappointed they hadn't used her idea but she went back to her book and was soon immersed in _Science vs. Magic: A Contradiction of Ideas_ for her Muggle Studies class.

Neville stared into the fire, feeling a lot better after he had talked about this matter to his friends. His detention with Snape didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

----

Monday had been the worst day for detention, worse than the rest of them because even though Neville hadn't lost his temper, Snape had and Neville had never seen him so angry.

It turned out Ginny's advice may not have been as helpful as Neville thought, if only he had known.

Neville was stuck in detention with Snape once more and had to finish a particularly nasty job.

He had to collect Garffghoul vomit and Neville approached it with apprehension as Snape loomed over him and said, "You had better not screw this up. I do _not_ want a repeat of what happened last time." Snape twisted his mouth in disgust.

The Garffghoul looked to Neville like an illegal creature, something that was usually bred by Hagrid and equally gross looking. It had a slimly reptile appearance, with black beady eyes and a mud-colored body (with no arms) that was half-sitting in a cauldron. The Garffghoul made a squelching noise as Neville came toward it with the glass vial that he had to collect the vomit in.

"Do not spill a drop!" Snape hissed and continued, "I need the vomit for a Digestive Solution."

Neville's hand shook as he tentatively put the vial under the creature's mouth which opened wide to reveal very sharp teeth. He let out a frightened whimper before the Garffghoul let out a gag and filled the vial with the sickening substance. Neville pulled his hand away and corked the vial; his hand and sleeve had gotten in the way and he tried to wipe it clean.

"Give me that before you drop it!" Snape snatched the bottle from him and looked greedily at its contents before putting it on his desk. "Now feed it again and get another vial." He pointed to the bucket of slop that Neville had to get.

Neville looked into the bucket and almost lost his dinner. The bucket was crawling with what looked like maggots, worms, slugs and also some flobberworms. He gave a groan and heaved the bucket up to the creature and winced as it started to gobble down the contents.

When he was done feeding the Garffghoul Neville repeated gathering the vomit to fill in the vile.

Snape sat at his desk and watched him, ready to criticize his slightest mistake.

It took a while for the second vile to fill, obviously the creature had wanted to keep the contents in its stomach rather than give it up to the vile Neville held under its mouth. It kept wrenching its head away and garbled a disagreeable grunt and Neville accidentally poked it in its eye as he was trying to aim it at the mouth. It did not like being poked in the eye.

The Garffghoul let out a howling screech before Snape came rushing over.

"What are you doing? You stupid boy! Give me that!" Snape grabbed the vile from him and took a hold of the creature's neck and to Neville's horror, Snape stuck a finger in its mouth. The creature immediately gagged and spit up.

The vile was full but Snape's finger was bleeding as he corked the vial and he shot Neville a dirty look. "If you weren't so stupid I wouldn't have had to finish the job and injure my finger! Now I must put something on it before it gets infected." Snape went over to the sink to wash his wound before he came back to his desk and opened a drawer. "The Garffghoul's teeth are not only filthy, they are infectious." He pulled out a small bottle of what Neville guessed was disinfectant and Snape gasped as he poured the liquid over his finger. Neville could tell from the look on his Professor's face that it was very painful and just then Snape glared at him.

"_What are you looking at?"_ he sounded very dangerous and Neville stepped back from his desk.

"Nothing, sir." He let out a gasp as Snape rushed out from behind his desk and stood in front of him. His looming height and deathly pale face reminded Neville of the Dementors that used to roam the school grounds during his third year. All of a sudden, he was reminded of his worst fears and he shut his eyes tight to avoid looking into Snape's.

Neville thought hard about the Boggart that had turned into Snape during the time Professor Lupin was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He remembered the Boggart coming out of the closet.

"_Snape's out of the closet…"_

Then he thought about his grandmother, particularly her clothes and then before his eyes the Boggart turned into Snape—wearing his grandmother's patterned dress and vulture hat with the big red bag.

The thought made him laugh out loud and Neville opened his eyes, completely forgetting that he wasn't in Professor Lupin's class and instead of a Boggart Snape staring him down it was the real one—and he looked furious.

"_What the hell are you laughing at?"_ Snape growled.

Neville gulped and answered through his dry scratchy throat, "Nothing, sir."

"You think this is funny, do you?" He spoke softly to Neville but his tone was murderous. "Do you think its funny that you almost lost me my finger?"

Neville shook his head.

"Let's see how much you laugh when you're in pain." Snape grabbed him by the arm and dragged Neville to the Garffghoul. He snatched Neville's right hand and forced the Garffghoul's open mouth and shoved the hand in. The Garffghoul immediately bit down on it and Neville screamed out in pain.

Neville had tears streaming down his face but Snape wasn't doing anything but smirking at him and this made him angry. He tried to pull his hand away but it wouldn't come free, the creature's teeth had sunk into it and wasn't letting go.

There was nothing Neville could do and Snape let out a nasty laugh. "Now _this_ is funny!"

Neville couldn't punch Snape so he punched the only thing in reach.

The Garffghoul finally let go of his hand and gave a piteous cry of pain. It had been punched right between its beady black eyes.

Clutching his hand in pain Neville was about to wrap it in his robes when Snape raised his hand and cuffed him while he shouted, "You imbecile! That creature is irreplaceable! You almost killed it!"

If Neville hadn't known better he would have thought Snape felt more about the creature's injury than his own injured finger.

Now his ears hurt as well as his hand and when he looked down at it he saw the puncture marks where the creature bit him—it was turning a bruised green.

"Just get out of here! Go on!" Snape angrily waved him away.

Once more Neville was dismissed early from detention and had to hurry to the hospital wing.

----

During Care of Magical Creatures class the next day, Hagrid had taken a look at Neville's bandaged hand and let out a low whistle.

"How's your hand there?" he asked.

"It's okay. I just can't move it which makes it hard to write with. I may have to try writing with my left hand." Neville had trouble miming this out as he had to hold on to the leash of the Niffler Hagrid had given to him. The Niffler was remarkably cute compared to some of the other creatures Hagrid had in his class and Neville was glad of it, he didn't think he could handle anything more after his detention last night.

"You said it was a Garffghoul that bit 'yeh?" Hagrid was taking a closer look at Neville's injury, as if he could see the damage through all the gauze the covered his hand. Neville nodded and Hagrid gruffly replied, "Never heard of it. If there's a creature I've never heard of, it probably doesn't exist!"

Neville described what the Garffghoul was and a dark look came over Hagrid's face.

"Oh that," he continued with a disgruntled nod, "That's Professor Snape's doing, that is. O'course you can't really call it a creature 'cause it wasn't exactly born, 'yeh know."

"What do you mean?" Neville was jerked away by his Niffler but he managed to tug him back.

"Ah, I'm not supposed to say but I 'seen that thing and it's nothin' nature created, that's for sure." Hagrid looked around at the class and then yelled out at Pansy Parkinson, "Yeh better take off that watch or the Niffler'll get it!" She shot Hagrid a dirty look but obeyed.

"Yeah…" he gave a disapproving glance at her then turned back to Neville, "In fact, Snape brought that thing over last night, tried to make me take a look at it but I told him 'There's nothin' wrong with it, that thing's as tough as nails, it is,' and he just kept insisting I ought to fix it anyway—if fixing the creature is what you'd call it.

Anyway, I gave it some tonic and the thing just gave a big 'ole belch, right as rain. 'Course that was before the blasted thing tried to eat everything in sight, including 'me own socks! I never said nothin' about it though and the creature didn't seem the worse for the wear so Snape just took it back."

Neville stared out into the plowed dirt field. Wouldn't Professor Snape have been arrested by the Ministry of Magic for creating an illegal creature?

"How did he create the creature if it wasn't born?" he asked Hagrid.

"Don't know," Hagrid shook his head and replied, "But it seemed to be a sort of accident that happened and 'yeh know Dumbledore would never make a fuss. It turns out that creature's pretty handy for potion making and such." Hagrid left Neville to his thoughts and went to gather the Nifflers from the students.

Snape must have named the creature recently, Neville thought, if Hagrid hadn't heard of it before. It was certainly a fitting name for a creature that sounded as vicious as its appetite.

----

The week had been a total nightmare and with one more week to go, Neville was feeling as if he would hardly survive it. In just about every detention he had so far it felt like he was risking his life and barely escaped mortal danger—and that was just from the tasks he was ordered to do by Snape.

Snape was even more furious with him and Neville thought back to that fateful day when he stupidly shoved the Potion Master's head into the cauldron. Why had he done that? How could he lose control like that? Whenever he thought back on it Neville came to the conclusion that he must have been insane. But then again, as Hermione pointed out to him after a particularly hard night of detention, it _had _been building up.

"You've been under a lot of pressure, Neville. It's no wonder you lost control like that…"

Hermione was changing the bandages on his other hand that had been badly burned from the undiluted bubotuber puss that he had been mixing. Hermione made a _tsk_ sound as she unwound the bandage and diagnosed, "More essence of Murtlap, I think."

Neville gingerly flexed the hand that was covered in boils. His hand was staring to heal but it still hurt, though it looked a lot better than the first time when all the boils had been bright red.

Between mixing bubotuber puss, extracting snake venom and weighing poisonous powdered doxy eggs (which could be fatal if inhaled), he was really lucky he hadn't done himself in already. But if this was any indication of how dangerous the tasks Snape set for him were getting then Neville was quite sure he would be dead by next week.

"You shouldn't keep it inside like that." Hermione finished.

"Huh?" Neville had been so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't quite hear what Hermione was saying. She had finished putting the bandage on his hand and was now looking up at him expectantly.

"If you had an outlet for your frustration then you wouldn't lose control like this."

"Yeah, you're right." Neville nodded and said, "I know it's my fault."

"NO!" Hermione nearly shouted and Neville jumped. "I'm sorry, I meant," Hermione paused, waiting for Neville's nerves to settle before she continued, "You shouldn't blame yourself either, it's not your fault! You just need to have more confidence in yourself. Practice this with me: I am confident and calm." She waited for him to repeat.

"I am con-confident and… calm," he finished lamely.

"With more conviction now…"

Neville repeated it again.

"That's better. Whenever Snape, or anyone else, starts to get you down just say this to yourself over and over. You have to start a positive internal monologue with yourself so you can boost your self-esteem. Remember: Positive thoughts. Say this over and over in your head."

"You mean, I have to talk to myself?" Neville looked dubious. "Won't that make me seem, _odd_?"

"No, I read it in a very credible Muggle book called, _Positive Thinking for the Psychological Pessimist_. I think it's excellent advice."

Neville frowned. "Well, I don't feel very comfortable talking to myself, even if it's just in my head."

"In that case, just remember what I say." Hermione continued, "You're a confident, calm and _capable_ person. You just need to believe in yourself." She nodded in agreement with herself.

Neville still looked dubious.

"I know you can do it, Neville. I believe in you." Hermione smiled at him and he blushed.

----

A/N: The Garffghoul was my creation and I'll try to put a drawing of it on my Deviant Art site. I may even do a spin-off about Snape and the Garffghoul and how it was created—if I get around to it. Next chapter: You'll see… I'm still working on it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Anybody Got An Outlet?

During the weekends students were busy studying for tests and exams that were coming up for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. The teachers were also very busy writing out their teaching schedules and reviewing tasks the students would have to practice before they were tested. All in all most weekends were very busy indeed. But for some students that didn't mean all was work and no play.

Fred and George had their own business with jokes and Skiving Snack boxes with other surprising sweets thrown in.

"Get your canary creams, only three sickles each…" Fred showed some to the second years while George on the other end of the Gryffindor common room was working the first years.

"Try a tongue-twisting treacle—no, I mean that literally and don't you dare steal from me you little runt!" George turned around and smacked a dark haired boy's hand out of his pocket where he kept some of the un-tested candy. "Lucky for you I'm not distracted easily!" he mumbled as the boy sped off.

"Hey George!" Fred called.

"Huh?" He turned around again while fending off the kids who had no money. "Get back, if you don't have the galleons you don't get the goodies".

Fred came over jingling the coins in his purse pocket. "That's three sets of canary creams I've sold so far. How about you?"

"No luck. How am I supposed to sell to first years who haven't got the money?" George cast them a dirty look before he spotted Hermione who was rushing over with her Prefect badge gleaming in the light of the room like a beacon of self-righteousness. "Quick, hide this!" He stuffed the candy in Fred's hands and stepped in front of him while Fred furiously tried to stuff the goods in his purse pocket where it magically shrank inside of it.

"I saw you selling illegal contents to those students over there!" Hermione pointed imperiously to the second years who were still covered in feathers.

"_Illegal contents_, now really. Don't you think you're being over-dramatic?" George laughed.

"Yeah, just a bit…" Fred finished stuffing the candy away and they were safely in the pocket purse.

Hermione only stood there with her hands on her hips while Neville came up beside her.

"I'll have you know I can not only confiscate the candy you sold but I can also take away the money you received too!"

"You wouldn't". George dared.

"That's thieving. It's our money from our products—" Fred exclaimed.

"Which are not safe!" she butted in.

"It's not part of the school rules that they have to be checked with authorities first."

"Oh really?" Hermione looked furious but Neville only stood there with an amused look on his face.

"Section four hundred and thirty-seven Article fifteen Line thirty-six states: Any item or possession thereof of any student, teacher or being of this said school (i.e. Hogwarts) shall be the sole responsibility of the owner including but not limited to personal possessions, objects of value or _products_ from said person's own hand, money or gift that is brought in or given to the owner who then has the right to relinquish, sell or give in accordance with Article fifty-three and Section one hundred and seven for any period of time or such as said owner of that possession chooses and _shall not_ be taken by force except by those accorded such rights under Section three thousand two hundred and sixty one." Fred finally finished smugly.

"What is that from?" Hermione was clearly at a loss and was surprised at the long list that Fred had memorized and at his apparent knowledge of the school's rules.

"The Memorandum Accordium of the Hogwarts Regulatum, otherwise known as the Book of Rules for Hogwarts." George explained.

"I've never heard of it." Hermione crossed her arms and Neville nodded in agreement.

"Well it's been outdated for about four hundred years but some of the rules still apply." George smiled and Fred elaborated, "We checked it and it's perfectly legal for us to sell our products to the students!"

Hermione stood there for a long moment, staring them down while they both smiled smugly until she finally answered, "I'm going to look up Section three thousand two hundred and sixty one and see for myself what I'm allowed to confiscate." With that she marched off while Neville followed her to the Library.

"Do you think she'll find the Section where it says Prefects can pretty much do whatever they want?" George asked.

"Yeah, I think so. But it will be a long while before she does and by that time we'll have sold all our products!" Fred laughed and went back to the students shouting, "Get your Canary Creams and Skiving Snack Boxes while you can!"  
---

Neville was sitting behind a wall of books that Hermione had laid out in front of them. He had tried to talk her out of this enormous task when the Librarian, Madame Pince, had told Hermione that the only single copy of the Memorandum Accordium was in the Ministry of Magic and the only copy (or rather copies) Hogwarts had were scattered around the Library because of their un-organized labeling.

"The last time I sorted those books was when I came here in my third year. I was given the task of shelving new books in the Library and repairing the old ones as I also categorized all the old books here." Madame Pince's voice was gravelly and Neville thought it must have been a hundred years ago since she was a third year at Hogwarts.

"What did you do to get such a bad detention?" Neville couldn't help himself and was curious about Madame Pince. She certainly didn't seem like the rowdy type.

"It was an honor given to me by the Headmaster Augustus Rowan Bartleby." She turned quickly to Neville and gave him a dirty look before she pointed a wand at the top book on the top shelf and made it go onto the table with a loud _slam_. "Anything else you need?" If she had been a real vulture she surely would have pecked his eyes out.

"No, thank you." Hermione answered with a nervous shake of her head and grabbed the heavy book to take back to the other fifty books stacked onto the table. When they were settled she whispered to Neville, "You shouldn't have said that!"

Neville shrunk back and Hermione sighed, "Normally, she's not so talkative but I suppose she thinks of me as something like a kindred spirit…" She rolled her eyes and went back to work.

Neville thought he heard the table give an ominous creaking groan under the weight of all the books.

When they had sorted through their fiftieth book Neville asked, "Is this what you do for fun?"

"Hmm?" Hermione was still engrossed in the book and then looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Is this your outlet?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose it is. I find books quite calming and very interesting."

"Oh." He didn't say anything for a moment then asked again, "I guess Fred and George's business is their outlet." He looked back at Hermione who didn't say anything but was looking at a book entitled, _The Other Side of Wizard History: What Really Happened and to Whom?_. It seemed Hermione had given up on Section three thousand and whatever, at least for now.  
---

All the students at Hogwarts had their afternoon activities and clubs. There was Quidditch, which was number one for sports and popularity, Gobstones and the Charms club. On rainy days students would be playing Wizard's Chess and Exploding Snap indoors and Quidditch. On sunny days students would usually be outside enjoying the sun, walking down to the lake to read and relax or play Quidditch. This weekend had been particularly nice but as usual while the students were outside, Severus Snape was inside and in the dungeons.

He had been pouring over his Potion books and a few Dark Arts books when he heard a knock on the door.

"_What is it_?" he growled. Severus hated being interrupted.

The door opened and for some strange reason Albus Dumbledore was standing there.

"I have no idea why you put such powerful charms on your door, Severus. I can't imagine any student wanting to break into your office."  
"Such break-ins have happened before," he answered. "What do you want?"

Ignoring Severus' rude tone Albus answered, "I just wanted to see if you would like to join me in a game of croquet on the lawn. Pomona has set up some lovely hedge barriers and we're playing in the traditional non-magical way, though with a little wizard magic thrown in. How about it, Severus?"

"I'd rather not." He resumed his reading again.

"But it's such a nice day outside…" Albus looked askance at Severus who did not look up from his book of, _Grisly Deaths by Gruesome Means_, a particularly nasty Dark Arts book. "It would be good for you to get outside I think and get some sunshine."

"I'll stay here thanks."

"Suit yourself. If you would like to join us later…" Albus saw it was a lost cause though and made his way out of the office.

"Finally some peace and quiet." Severus mumbled to himself. All he liked to do on a day like this was read his dark books and be left alone. He hated sunny days.  
---

Neville had excused himself from Hermione's quest to find the mysterious rule book and its equally mysterious Section three thousand something.

He had looked for Harry and Ron but had remembered they were playing Quidditch and wouldn't be back until dinner. Unfortunately, Neville had detention tonight and he would be serving it after dinner so there wouldn't be time for him to hang out with them. Luna was in Charms club and Ginny was off somewhere, probably with a boy. There was really no one there for him to talk to.

Whenever he was alone like this he would usually go to the Herbology classroom out in the garden houses but Professor Sprout wasn't there and neither was Hagrid when Neville walked to his hut. Even his dog Fang wasn't there.

Neville was lonely and bored and didn't know what to do.

He had some Charms homework to do and so worked on that until it was finished but when he looked up at the clock it was still an hour before dinner.

Neville tapped his quill against some blank parchment until he got up and headed out of the Gryffindor room and down the stairs. Without really caring where he went he walked along the hallways and into corridors and even ventured behind a curtain that he was sure he had seen before but had forgotten where it went. He then found himself on another floor and it was soaking wet.

Wondering where all the water came from he followed it until it led into the girl's bathroom. He opened the door and called in, "Hello?"

He didn't really expect a friendly answer, after all he was a boy in a girl's bathroom but he wasn't prepared for the rude comment flown back at him.

"Why don't you get out of the girl's bathroom and go jump in the lake then stay there?"

"Excuse me?" Neville went inside and got his robes wet as he sloshed his way to the toilet where he heard the voice.

"I said get out!"

_This girl was really rude, whoever she was_, Neville thought to himself.

"I'm sorry but I was just wondering where all this water came from…" His question was soon answered as a spay of water fell onto him and a floating specter came out of the toilet in the cubicle he was facing.

"_Ewww_, toilet water! Gross!" Neville shook the water from his hair.

"What do you want?" A pale girl was facing him wearing glasses and a grumpy look on her face.

"Sorry to bother you uh… what's your name?" Neville shyly asked.

"What do you care what my name is? _What does anyone care about me_?" She wailed.

"Um, I care." he offered.

"No, you don't!" she spat back.

He really didn't have a defense for that.

"I'm stuck here all alone and no one ever comes to see me! It's so boring being alone with no one to talk to!" The ghost moaned.

"I know what it's like, I'm also—"

"I'm _talking_ here!" She interrupted then continued, "I've had to stay here ever since I died and I can't go anywhere anymore! Why is my life so _horrible_?"

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should go…" He stared edging his way out of the girl's bathroom when the ghost shot back at him,

"Fine, go ahead then. Leave me all alone! What do you care since I'm _dead_ already!"

Neville winced as she wailed again and tried to apologize, "Sorry, I'll stay if you like."

"I don't even know you and you're not supposed to be in the girl's bathroom!" She floated toward him and he backed away.

"Uh, I'll just go then, shall I?" Neville was uncertain as to what he should do. She seemed lonely but didn't want him to stay. It seemed there was nothing he could do to make her happy. She seemed to like being miserable.

"Go, just go! Leave me alone!" She started sobbing again and when Neville closed the door on her he could still hear her all the way down the stairs.

In his hurry to get away from the moaning ghost he forgot the way back and was waiting for the stairs to swing back but when he managed to get onto them they swung down instead of up. No matter how many times he repeated, "Gryffindor Tower", the stairs would not budge.

Neville accepted his fate and walked down the corridors. They seemed to be heading down to the dungeons but when he turned the corner it was brightly lit and he was facing a painting of fruit.

"Now what?"

He was lost and didn't know where to go. He wished the painting had been of a person or being that he could ask directions from instead of a bowl of fruit. He didn't think a bowl of fruit could answer him, no matter how magically enchanted it was.

Neville leaned against the painting, willing it to somehow change into a map but nothing happened. He slid his hand off the pear before he heard a shrill giggle.

"Huh?"

He looked again at the painting and saw that it had swung open like a door. For a moment he debated whether to just head back upstairs because if he went inside the door to somewhere else he would be worse off for sure.

"Oh well, can't get much worse than this can it?" Neville held his breath and went inside.

On his way down the narrow stairs he bumped his head on the low ceiling before he saw where he was. It was a huge kitchen and beyond the doorway it opened up all the way to the sky just like the Great Hall.

"Excuse me, sir." A house-elf brushed by him carrying a tray of ingredients for cooking and more of them were busy chopping vegetables and stirring pots of soup and sauces. They all looked up at him and gave a short nod of greeting before returning to their work.

"Wow". Neville couldn't believe it. He had found the secret entrance to the kitchens. Trying not to disturb the house-elves, he made his way to a corner where a small table laid with left over elf sized plates was standing near a pile of blankets. Neville propped up the blankets a bit before he sat down. Immediately he leapt up as a loud screech came from under where he was sitting.

Right before his eyes the pile of blankets unwound themselves and a very disgruntled house-elf was staring at him through its bleary eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were under there." Neville offered his apology but the house-elf still glared at him.

"Sorry sir, so sorry, sir." Another house-elf came whizzing by and it tried to move the disgruntled one who wouldn't budge.

"Why is Dobby being so rude?" Neville guessed from her voice it was a she and the other one must've been Dobby.

"Hey, I've heard of you. Harry's talked about you."

"Oh yes, Harry Potter." Dobby turned around and his eyes gleamed with happiness, "He talks of me?" He gave a squeal of joy before he continued, "You know Harry Potter, sir?"

"Yes, I'm his classmate in Gryffindor." Neville smiled shyly at the unaccustomed politeness he was receiving.

"Dobby is glad, sir. You must be a good friend." Dobby rushed over to hug him around the stomach and he laughed.

"Yeah, I guess." Dobby finally released him and went about moving the disgruntled elf who had settled down again. "I didn't mean to sit on her. I didn't mean to wake her up like that."

"Winky should not sleep in the kitchens." Dobby poked her awake and she stubbornly wrapped the blanket around her. "She has been drinking again, sir. Please don't think ill of her…" Dobby apologized.

"Oh no. Don't worry about it. That's ok." Neville found himself a very small chair and gingerly sat himself down on it.

Winky suddenly sat up and stared Dobby down. "Dobby is not defending me! I am a good elf! You are a bad elf, Dobby! Bad, bad!" she squeaked.

Dobby only gave a nervous laugh. "Winky likes to yell at Dobby and drink, sir. That is her—how do you say, Out Will?"

"Um, you mean outlet?" Neville suggested.

"Yes, yes, her out-let. Ever since she—"

"Dobby will shut up now!" Winky snarled and laid back down again.

Dobby gave another apologizing nod before he started to clean up the dishes on the small table left over from the night before.

"Do you work all the time in the kitchens?" Neville asked.

"Oh most of the time, sir." Dobby magically Dissaparated the dishes into the wash sink then wiped the table clean. "We also clean the castle, light the fires, change the beds, wash the windows, wash the dishes, dust the rooms and the shelves, heat the beds at night, cook the meals—and many other things." He finished nervously.

"Wow, that's a lot. I don't think I could do all of that." It made Neville's head spin to think of that much work.

Dobby only nodded. "Would you like something to eat and drink, sir?"

"Huh? Oh no, thanks." He looked at his watch. "It's almost dinner anyway." He noticed the frantic speed at which the elves were working on the food now and wanted to excuse himself but then thought of something.

"Do house-elves get breaks?"

"Yes, we get bathroom breaks, meal breaks and sleep breaks, sir."

"That's it?"

Dobby nodded.

Neville chewed his lip and thought about Hermione's S.P.E.W. project and wished he was more involved now. "Don't house-elves want more breaks than that?"

"Oh no, sir." Dobby shook his head. "We aren't wanting more time than is necessary for work. But—" he looked around before answering, "Dobby likes to have some free time and go to the Gryffindor room to see if Harry Potter is there or to watch him at his Quid-_tich_ through the windows. Otherwise Dobby is adding to his collection of clothes." He proudly showed his shocking pink shirt and lime green shorts underneath his Hogwarts toga.

Neville smiled at him though a few other house-elves had given disapproving looks at Dobby.

"Dobby must be getting to work now, sir."

"Yeah, ok. Thanks Dobby." Neville got up to leave.

"For what, sir?"

"Thanks for talking to me. Everyone else was busy."

Dobby smiled and nodded as Neville left the kitchens.  
---

Dinner was remarkably short and Neville tried to finish it as slowly as he could but at the same time he didn't want to be late for his detention and risk Snape's anger.

Ron was busy stuffing food down and Harry was busy going over the Quidditch moves in his head and Hermione looked like she had finally found the book she was looking for, it was bigger than two dinner plates and took up twice as much room. Neville found himself finishing his dinner in silence before excusing himself.

"Well, back to detention." Everyone had given a short nod but that was it. Neville was on his own again as he went down to the dungeons.

When he got there he knocked on the door but no one answered. Tentatively he opened the door to the dungeon classroom where his detention was supposed to be but there was no one inside. He then walked down to Snape's office and stopped at the door. Against his will he knocked. There was no answer.

He knocked again before the door swung open and Snape stood there, glaring at him.

"What do you want? Why are you bothering me now?" Snape growled at him.

"It's my detention, sir. It's after dinner time."

Snape's hand slid from the door he was holding as he stared off into space for a moment before he finally swore, "Damn it!"

It seemed with whatever Professor Snape was doing, he had forgotten about Neville's detention. If only Neville had had the sense to have gone back to dinner after seeing the classroom was empty instead of going to Snape's office.

It was too bad he wasn't allowed to swear as Snape had done.

"Hurry up and get in here then!" Snape slammed the door shut, making Neville wince, as he made his way back to the desk.

It was clear that Snape had been in the middle of reading as he continued from the marked place within the big moldy book that was spread out on the desk.

"Remove those jars," he pointed a long bony finger to the glass cabinet in the corner, "and dust each of those shelves—without magic—and if you so much as crack open a jar, my next specimen will be your entrails—do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Neville gulped but Snape only sneered and went back to his book.

Neville was very careful to move the jars without breaking them and had done each of them one by one until the shelf was clear to dust. Although the jars were clean enough the shelves were filthy and grimy with years of dirt. Though he scrubbed with the rag it only spread the soil around. Dusting may have been the wrong term because it seemed Neville would have to literally scrape all the accumulated muck off and some of it looked like dried blood.

He nervously looked back at Snape but he didn't seemed to be paying any attention to Neville and was thoroughly immersed in his book.

The cloth he was using was already black and sticky by the time he had tried to clean the shelves and now the tacky substance was sticking to his hands. There was no basin for him to wash his hands in and he didn't dare ask Snape to be excused, it seemed Snape didn't like being interrupted when he was reading. So instead, Neville tried to wipe his hands on his robes.

It didn't work but only made his robes stick to his hands. He flapped his robes about while trying to free his hands then stopped as he glanced at Snape.

Snape was still reading and had leaned his head on his hand, absolutely absorbed in what looked like to Neville to be a morbid book of torture.

At last, Neville pulled his hands free and decided to put the jars back onto the shelf. It didn't look like Snape was going to check his work, at least not now. Neville knew he would pay for his bad work later but he just wanted to get out and leave Snape to his awful book.

One by one he put the jars back as he had done when he had taken them off. He even tried to put them back in the same order as they were before and when he was finished it looked like it did when he started.

Nervously, he looked back at Professor Snape and whispered very softly, "I'm done, sir."

Snape didn't look up from his book and didn't answer.

Neville tried again, a little bit louder this time after he cleared his throat, "Uh... _ahem_, I'm done, sir."

"What?" Snape snarled and finally looked up.

Neville stood there ready to be hexed any moment as Snape looked up at the jars and saw that none were broken.

"Get out."

Neville left and didn't look back on his way out of the office.  
---

It was after eleven o'clock when Severus Snape rubbed his tired eyes and shut his book. After carefully locking his Dark Arts books away in the other cabinet, he walked over to the glowing glass jars on the open shelf and looked them over. They were almost in the same order.

_Damn that boy_, he thought as he grabbed the jar with the suspended two-headed snake in it.

_I'm going to_—

But that train of thought was cut off as he found the jar stuck to the shelf.

"What the hell?" He tried to wrench it free but it resolutely stuck there and refused to move a millimeter. With another curse he tried another jar but found it stuck as well.

"Fine then!" Severus took out his wand and pointed it at the poisonous toad jar and muttered, "_Lubricio_!"

Unfortunately, it had flown off but not before it took a chunk of the shelf with it. Severus deftly caught the jar in his hand and stared at the splintered wood on the bottom of it.

It turned out the dust on top of the layer of dirt and grime was the only thing keeping the jars unstuck until Neville had cleaned it off.

When he was done getting all the jars unstuck from the grimy shelves Severus was going to need a new cabinet.

"_Damn it_!"

His temper was like a short fuse and he didn't have many outlets for it. All he had were his Dark Arts books that he liked to read and other than collecting interesting specimens in glass jars and tormenting students there wasn't much else for him to do for fun.

Why did everyone have to spoil his fun?

He stood there gritting his teeth and clenching his fists around the glass jar until he finally slammed it down on the desk and stalked out of his office.  
---

Dobby was finishing his night time duties of cleaning up and preparing for the next day's chores when a voice summoned him.

"_Bring me hot cocoa—no whipped cream_!"

"Yes, sir." Dobby answered and quickly obeyed. He was used to taking orders in the middle of the night. Dumbledore always liked hot cocoa sometimes and McGonagall usually liked to have a thimble full of spirits in hers but Dobby always knew that the only person who ordered hot cocoa without cream wasn't Filch but someone equally (if not more) detestable and though Dobby would never speak ill of any teacher of Hogwarts this one was the exception. But Dobby obeyed because Dobby respected his position very much and wanted to stay at Hogwarts.

Within a few minutes Dobby was at the door of the dungeons and had knocked on the door before the person he detested so much answered and took the cocoa without so much as a single nod or acknowledgement to him. Dobby shook his head in exasperation and went back to the kitchens, keeping his thoughts to himself rather than risk muttering them aloud in case he was overheard.  
---

Severus slurped his hot cocoa slowly as he sat back in his chair, pondering Neville's next punishment for the last week. He hadn't exactly done as Dumbledore asked in teaching Neville to control himself but if the boy couldn't cope with the pressure then too bad. If you couldn't take the heat you should step back from the cauldron, as the saying went.

He finished the last of the cocoa as it had cooled down and set it aside. He should have carefully checked to make sure there was no milk in the cocoa either as he was lactose intolerant but it was too late now.

However, if he were to wake up in the morning with abominable cramps he had a poison ready to give to that blasted elf, just in case. The symptoms of the poison would be much worse compared to what he suffered from milk and it was also undetectable. Though it would wear off in a few hours the symptoms would remain and he knew how bad it could be because he was the one who created the poison.

Although he was not the most liked person or student in school, he was smart and Severus soon found out that was all you needed to succeed in life—no matter what other people said to you or did.  
---

His knowledge in Potions came very handy one day when a certain be-speckled black-haired idiot and his gang were bothering him. They seemed to think his lactose intolerance was very funny and had force-fed him a whole glass bottle of it while he was pinned to the ground by the large and stupid rat-faced Pettigrew.

Of course, when he was done vomiting and writhing in pain from his stomach cramps he soon had his revenge.

None of them had ever suspected that Argus Filch, the Squib who was beginning care-taking duties then, had slipped the powder that Severus had prepared into their pumpkin juice. It was a concoction of a laxative mixed with different herbal and creature ingredients to also create a vomiting effect.

Severus had the last laugh as Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin ran from the Great Hall, making a mess from both ends at once.  
---

These happy thoughts followed him to sleep until the next morning when he got up.

For Severus, Sunday was no better than the day before.

---

Next Chapter: Neville still has to find an outlet (I'll take suggestions!). I _might_ mix some of the Love and Chocolates story with this one… if I can't come up with new ideas. How did you like my really long legal jargon back there with Fred and George? Right now I'm listening to "Dance of the Knights" by Sergei Prokofiev—really inspirational for wicked stories.


	4. Mutiny!

Sunday was no fun for Neville at all. He knew he would have to pay for the lousy job he did on Snape's cabinet cleaning and as Professor Snape reminded him with a sneer, he would pay for a new cabinet one way or another.

It turned out that Neville would pay by being Filch's slave for a whole day.

From early morning until late at night, Neville was ordered to gather the laundry, scrub the floors, clean the toilets, re-scrub the floors after the Slytherin Quidditch team muddied up the halls again and the list went on and on until Neville was ready to drop.

By the time dinner came around he was falling asleep on the table as the food appeared. A jug of pumpkin juice bumped his head and spilled right near his nose but he didn't bother to move.

"Neville, mate, wake-up…" Fred reached around and moved the jar away from him as George did a border-house reach with a napkin to wipe up.

"I'm too tired to eat." Neville groaned.

"Don't worry, we'll feed you." Fred scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes and tried to do just that when he accidentally poked Neville in the nose instead, making him cough and choke as the potatoes clogged his nostrils.

"Fred!" Hermione helped Neville wipe his face off. "This is ridiculous, honestly! Snape was obviously being lazy in giving Neville's detention over to Filch! Of all people to serve detention with, I couldn't imagine a worse person to get stuck with."

"You're forgetting Umbridge…" Harry interjected.

"Or Lockhart!" Ron added. Hermione shot him a disbelieving look before he answered, "What? Just because you didn't mind being shut up with him for four hours answering fan mail…" Ron went back to eating.

"If you ask me, I think this has gone on far enough! A month's detention is too much for Neville, look at him, he's already asleep." Hermione gathered some food in a napkin cloth to save for him later. "I think it's time for an intervention."

"A what?" Ron mumbled through his food.

"I think Neville shouldn't be the only one who has to stand up to Snape just because Snape picks on him so much. If all of the students got together and rose up to fight I believe we could win this."

"Are you talking about a war?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Um, aren't we already in enough trouble with Umbridge lately?" Harry also asked.

"We have to stick together and take a stand. Are you with me or not?" Hermione shot them all a stern look.

"Well, when you put it that way, what choice do we have?" Ron agreed reluctantly.

"Sure, I guess. But what are we going to do?" Harry shrugged.

"Don't worry, I have a plan." Hermione nodded to herself.

Fred and George looked over at them and nodded knowingly before they both chuckled. If it was for the good of their friends they'd agree and making trouble was what they did best after all.

---

Unfortunately for Neville he never knew of the plan that Hermione had hatched for the next day and it was unbeknownst to him as he sat in his class that all the students were in on the strike because that's what all the students cried out when Professor Snape hissed at Neville to stop screwing around and light the cauldron.

"STRIKE!"

"WHAT?" Snape spun around at the crowd of students, all Griffindors, who had stood up and crossed their arms like some strange game of Simon Says and it was obvious to him who was the leader.

"_What is going on_?" he hissed to Hermione Granger.

"We, that is the Griffindors and most of the students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, have declared a strike. We will not do another thing in Potions until you promise to treat Neville better and not pick on him."

Neville's mouth dropped open in shock but then he turned a bright red when Snape turned to face him.

"Crying for help from your little friends, are you?" Snape reeled around to face the whole class, including some of the dumbstruck Slytherins who had no idea how to handle this class unity. This served to split them up as some of them considered joining the strike to get out of Potions or even having their own strike just for fun. Snape had to act quickly and so he rounded on Hermione, "This isn't going to work, you stupid girl. If you all decide not to do the class work I've assigned you—you all fail!" From Snape's perspective, it was settled.

"Actually, if the whole class fails consistently three times in each of your classes then it's the teacher who gets in trouble and they face a re-examination of their classes _and_ their teaching." Hermione stated.

"What stupid rule book did you drag that out of—I've never heard of that, it's preposterous!" Snape seemed to be losing his ground against the bookworm.

"_And_ with Umbridge being the Head Inquisitor now, she has the power to expel any teacher she sees as 'unfit to provide the necessary training for our new generation of wizards', go ahead and quote her on that. I'm sure you wouldn't want to give her any reason to question your method of teaching, would you Professor?" Hermione finished smugly.

"Why you little—" Snape seemed unable to finish what he wanted to say because he was so angry.

"So either you be nicer to Neville—and the other students—or we continue this little strike until it becomes a big problem, it's your choice." Hermione stayed calm the whole time Snape glared at her. It was a while before he could answer without swearing aloud.

"I suppose you'll be asking for breaks and tea time in between Potions next!" he hissed at her.

"Actually, we're not asking for much, just some respect from you instead of your outrageous insults and demeaning behavior." Hermione marched over to Neville who shrank down on his chair to avoid Snape's murderous stare.

"Miss Granger, you know I only do that because the whole lot of you are worthless when it comes to Potions!"

Hermione only crossed her arms and stood resolutely with the other Griffindors until one of the Slytherins raised their hands. It was surprisingly Draco Malfoy.

"Sir, we're not worthless are we?" his tone sounded hurt.

"No, of course not!" Snape spat out, "Don't be stupid…" Draco hunched back onto his chair with a sullen look on his face.

"Um, Professor?" It was Pansy Parkinson who raised her hand next. "I think you're kind of mean too, I mean just when you yell at us that we have to be better than anyone else—I mean I understand why, because we're Slytherins and all—but it really hurts my feelings when you talk to me in that tone of voice."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me… Of all the absurd things to pop out of your mouth Parkinson, that beats all!" Snape gave an incredulous stare as the rest of the Slytherins shook their heads and put the same hurt look on their face as Draco.

---

It seemed the mutiny had spread and Severus was beside himself with no way to stop it. It wasn't his thing to be _nice_, especially to his students who were mostly a pack of drooling idiots who wouldn't know how to mix vinegar and sodium bicarbonate properly.

There was nothing he could do. If he continued to be himself and insult the students, he would have Umbridge to deal with, on the other hand if he was (heaven forbid) polite to the little monsters then they wouldn't create a disturbance. But weren't they supposed to be obedient in the first place? What the hell was he doing trying to bargain with them on how to behave in class? It was all the Granger girl's fault, her and that stupid Longbottom boy…

Severus was getting a headache and his vision was going blank like it did when he was getting a migraine and it was only going to get worse. Either he had to answer to the girl and her motley crew or—what? The last resort he had left was unthinkable. He didn't want to think just now, not when his head was pounding and his stomach was trying to upchuck.

---

Snape stared around the dungeon room, he looked livid and pale, almost paler than usual but Hermione stood her ground and Neville sheepishly looked out from behind her back at his Potions Professor. He looked as if he were swaying in thought with his eyes closed until he groped behind him for something that wasn't there. It only took a second before Neville realized what was happening and then it was too late.

Snape was on the floor unconscious while everyone in the class let out gasps and shrieks and crowded all around him.

"Oh no! He fell on the floor!" Pansy shrilly screamed. "He's poisoned!"

"What happened to him?" Every one of the Slytherins gathered in a circle near the Professor.

"He's not poisoned, step back everyone!" Hermione made her way through the crowd and bent down toward the Professor, he was still breathing but not responding to her voice. She even tried to slap him but that didn't work.

Neville was behind her and looked absolutely terrified. "Is he dead?"

"No, of course he isn't! He's passed out. Quick, somebody run to Madam Pomfrey… she'll need to come over and revive him."

"Why can't you do it?" Ron kept his distance from Snape as he expected him to suddenly jump up like an angry Dracula from the grave at any moment.

"Students aren't authorized to perform any magic on a teacher, even if they know how to."

"I guess I'll go…" Harry started but Draco interrupted, "No, I don't think so, Potter. I'm his student, I'll go."

"Fine with me then, you go on."

"You do know it's all your fault, all of you Griffindors just couldn't behave and now you've knocked out the Professor."

"We didn't knock him out, he knocked himself out!" Ron argued back at Draco who started arguing back at how stupid their little strike was.

"We just wanted to be treated with respect, it wasn't supposed to be like this at all." Hermione defended.

It was suddenly the Griffindors against the Slytherins and poor Professor Snape was left on the floor, completely forgotten.

"I'll go!" Neville tried to shout over the students voices but it was no use so he just left and went for Madam Pomfrey by himself.

---

It took a while to revive the Professor, mostly because the students had gotten into a near riot amongst themselves and Madame Pomfrey had shouted at the top of her lungs until she shot a loud BANG into the air with her wand. Most of the students had stopped after that.

"Weasley, Malfoy! That's enough!" The two finally separated and Madame Pomfrey stepped over to Professor Snape who looked as though he had been trampled on in the middle of the riot.

By the time she managed to magically lift him onto a stretcher that was headed for the hospital wing, class had long since been over and it was in the middle of lunch time.

---

Although it was lunchtime Neville felt too sick with guilt to eat anything.

It was because of him that Hermione had started the strike and it was because of him that Professor Snape had fallen unconscious in the middle of Potions. He didn't even get to start his task of making the Calming Draught, though he would have failed at that for sure with or without Snape's mean comments constantly thrown at him.

Still, it didn't help Neville's conscience to know that he was the cause of Snape's literal collapse during Hermione's uprising.

"If only there was something I could do…" he thought out loud.

"Neville, for the hundredth time, it wasn't your fault!" Ron admonished him while nursing his black eye that Draco had given him. "Honestly, I never thought that prissy little ponce would know how to throw a punch…"

"I've got to do something." Neville stubbornly said.

"I think we've done enough already." Harry shook his head. Now that Snape was out of teaching temporarily, it was up to Umbridge to oversee the Potions class and she wasn't much better than Snape when it came to 'respecting' students. He was just lucky he didn't get detention in her other class of Potions, yet.

"Hey mate, at least you don't have to face detention during the last week. I figure Snape should be out at least until Friday." Ron's injury hadn't affected his appetite for food and he was already shoving another sandwich in his mouth before his next class.

Nothing they could say would take away Neville's guilt and so he kept it to himself until dinner time when he finally thought of a way to make it better.

It was when Harry had called the rest of the students over to the Griffindor table, making up some excuse so as not to arouse Umbridge's suspicion, that Neville got the idea to smooth things over with Snape. Students from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table came over, including Cho Chang and Luna Lovegood. While Harry was distracted by Cho, Neville had time to talk to Luna about what happened.

"I just thought I would ask you and see what you thought about it." Neville waited for her advice.

"Oh yes, it's just terrible. Umbridge wouldn't say why Professor Snape was in the hospital wing and she didn't say when he'd be out or if he was recovering or not."

The clench in Neville's stomach gave another painful squeeze until he had to stop eating his mince pie.

Luna, however, didn't seem to be bothered by the news as she helped herself to another piece of pie, followed by a helping of sweet potatoes topped by sauerkraut and ketchup.

_For such a thin girl she has an enormous appetite for the strangest food_, Neville thought as she shoved an almost too big forkful into her mouth.

When it was time for dessert, Neville watched her take a slice of cherry pie with whip cream on top, followed by pickles topped with cookies, more whip cream and ketchup. She took yet another big forkful into her mouth and munched rather noisily as Neville stared down at his empty plate. He didn't feel like dessert.

"So he must still be in the hospital wing then. Maybe I should go to him and say I'm sorry, or something like that so he'll forgive me." He gave a hopeful glance at Luna who only stared at him with her big eyes as she took another huge mouthful of her strange dessert combination.

"No, I know he won't forgive me—that would be crazy, but maybe I could explain what happened and that it wasn't my fault." He looked at her again but she said nothing, probably because her mouth was full.

"But I should do something instead of sitting here being sick with guilt. I'm going to go there and explain everything, including how bad I'm feeling, that should make him feel a little better. Yes, that's what I'll do, thanks Luna!"

Neville got up to leave when he heard a muffled shout from her that sounded like, '_tasemycoies_'. He could only guess what she meant as he answered, "Oh no thanks, I'm not hungry."

Luna swallowed an impossible amount of food before she cleared her throat, "No, I said take him some cookies."

"Oh right, that's a good idea. Thanks Luna!"

She didn't answer but only shoved more of her odd desert into her mouth as she watched him leave the Great Hall.

---

He was in the middle of his nap after dinner when he was rudely awakened by Madame Pomfrey.

"What is it? I thought you were going to leave me alone to get some sleep! Why are you bothering me now?" he hissed at her.

"You have a guest, Severus." Poppy's tone sounded light with unbelief as she said these words and Severus thought he had misheard her until a horrifying sight met his eyes.

"Oh no, not you…" He quickly buried his face into the covers until he realized how stupid this was as he ripped them away and sat up in his bed to face the person he least wanted to see in the world—besides Umbridge. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?" He gave his _guest_ the most impolite hostile stare possible but it seemed no use.

The boy stood facing him and was holding a tray of something.

_Most likely a pair of adders_, he thought, _to finish the job…_

Then Severus remembered the boy was terrified of snakes, as he was of everything else.

"What is it? Why are you disturbing my much needed rest and rehabilitation?"

"I just wanted to um… I wanted to say that… Well, really I…"

"OUT WITH IT!" Snape roared and the boy almost dropped what he was holding.

"Now Severus, you're not supposed to shout! That's how you got into this mess by being so upset. Honestly, it's enough I have to care for all the students of Hogwarts, I'd expect you would know how to take care of yourself and not put unneeded stress on your body."

"Enough already! I'm fine." He shooed away her attempts to lay him down. "Leave me alone, if I want to sit up, I'll sit up."

"Young man, you'd better hurry up. He has to take his medicine before bed and then he needs to get some sleep." Poppy ushered the Longbottom boy over to Severus' bedside before she left.

He faced Severus then gulped and took another breath before he stopped himself.

"Do take your time, I have all night in this blasted hell-hole of a hospital unless I give myself another migraine attack…" Severus savagely shot at him.

The boy only stood there and just as Severus was about to lie himself down in a temper fit he shoved the plate toward him, right under his nose. It smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

"What is this? Are you trying to poison me now?" Severus sat up and snatched the tray and uncovered the cookies. "I suppose I should count myself grateful that you wouldn't know how to poison me, even if you tried. Are these even edible?" He took a tentative bite before he swallowed.

_Not bad_, he reluctantly thought. _I just hope they don't kill me in the end…_

He took another bite and then shoved the whole thing in his mouth. He whipped his head around to the boy.

"You say nothing of this!" He accidentally spewed some crumbs as he said this but 'waste not want not' he took some more cookies and they disappeared within seconds.

"Don't worry, sir. They don't have milk in them. They're made with soy and almond substitutes." The Longbottom boy finally spoke up.

"How would you know that I'm lactose intolerant?" Severus gripped the now empty tray and was preparing to raise it over his head to strike.

"I didn't, Dobby just said—I mean…" Apparently the boy had already slipped and tried to correct his blunder which only made it worse, "When I made these I was trying to—"

"Wait, what did you say?" Severus momentarily lowered the tray. "Did you actually make these yourself?"

The boy nodded.

"You mixed the flour, chocolate chips, almond and soy substitutes—with the yeast and baking soda _and powder_—without screwing it up?" he asked incredulously.

He redundantly nodded.

"And yet you fail miserably in potions…" Severus gave a snort to himself.

"Yes about that—" Severus shot him a dirty look before the boy continued, "I didn't mean for that to happen. Hermione didn't even tell me she was going to do that. I'm really sorry you fainted in class."

"For your information, I did_ not_ faint! It was a bad migraine attack brought on by _you lot_ and it never would have happened in the first place if I was not constantly under the strain of all the pressures of teaching, being Head of House and _other things_ which you have no idea of…" Severus closed his eyes. Poppy had always told him it was bad to internalize his stress and that was why he was always having the migraine, upset stomach, insomnia and irritability symptoms that plagued him during the school year and that other woman, _Umbridge_, was only making it worse. It was only a matter of time before he collapsed from the exhaustion his body was being put through.

"Never mind. Just leave me alone and get out." Severus lay back down. "Here take this!" He shoved the tray at the boy then closed his eyes. He was almost to sleep when he sensed someone standing beside him, the boy was still there. "What is it?"

"If you hate teaching and it only puts stress on you, why do you do it?" he asked nervously.

"Because I have no choice." Severus hissed.

"Oh."

The Longbottom brat was still standing by his side and he gave a sigh of impatience.

"I'm good at Potions, that's why. It requires a sharp skill and mind with the determination only I can possess. There are few wizards who are as good as I am at Potions and I'm not bragging, it's the simple truth. Dumbledore gave me this position because I was the most qualified for it and thank heaven he did because with all of the nonsense I've had to put up with during these years as Potions Master, anyone else would've screwed up and poisoned the lot of you either from negligence or from the sheer insanity of going out of their minds." Severus quickly looked at Neville who looked down. "I didn't mean that, I just meant… Potions is really hard."

_Blast it anyway_, he thought to himself.

"Right. Well, goodnight Professor." The boy was about to leave when Severus stopped him.

"Wait…" They looked at each other for a moment. "You'd better re-read your assignment for today. The rest of you will do it again tomorrow, after dinner—with no interruptions. I will be teaching again and I will not tolerate any distractions or I will personally have Umbridge give you all detentions and from what I've heard they can be pretty _nasty_."

"Yes, sir." He nodded then Severus dismissed him.

He thought he should make it clear that just because the boy had given him some cookies, didn't mean Severus was about to get soft.

Though he would always be open to bribes, particularly chocolate chip cookies made with soy and almond substitutes.

----

Author Notes: After coming back from Thailand I'm getting back to writing. Also, my power went out and so I'm stuck in a hotel with nothing better to do…  
I've found Neville's outlet—baking!  
Next Chapter: Snape shares a story from his past and Neville rescues Snape!


	5. Things Turn Around

Chapter 5: Things Turn Around

There was a lot of catching up to do when Severus got back to his classroom. Unfortunately the Umbridge woman couldn't be counted on to do anything right and was just as incompetent in Potions as she was in fashion with her ridiculous outfits.  
The classroom was a mess of jars, ingredients and powders that had been put back on shelves without regard to its alphabetical order and level of potency that Severus had so meticulously arranged when he started at Hogwarts. Now everything was a complete mess and to top that off when Severus asked for a full report of the student's progress in Potions all Umbridge could say on the matter was, "I've done my best, _Professor_, certainly you're not going to question my methods of teaching."

"No, of course not, but I need to know where my students are so I'll know how to properly assess them." Severus answered back.

"They are where they should be as I see it." She smugly replied.

_So that means they know next to nothing… _He thought to himself. It seemed he would have to start all over and that was just from the one day he missed. This had completely ruined his schedule. If he had known just how badly this would throw him off he would have stayed in the Hospital wing and claimed extended leave of absence due to 'severe shortage of rope'.

He excused himself from the annoying woman's gaze and stormed into his office.

"Oh no, this is too much…" He stood there in complete unbelief.

Apparently the Umbridge woman had thought Severus was going to be in the Hospital wing far longer than necessary. Not only were his Potions books re-arranged along with the jars (which had been covered by a white crocheted blanket) but she had the nerve to try to _re-decorate._

He had against his better judgment given her permission to enter his office when she threatened to set an inquiry on him because of his doorway jinx which had given her quite a shock and ruffled a few of her frills. When she tried to set foot in his office, the doorway not only pushed her back forcefully but emitted a series of electric jolts and spine tingling shocks that, according to Madam Pomfrey, sent her hair on end. Normally this would have been hilarious to Severus (and the rest of the teachers) but due to the extremely tense situation it had only made matters worse because Umbridge then threatened to bring in Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

So Severus had told Umbridge, through Madam Pomfrey, the secret incantation to remove the jinx. And now his office was in thorough need of re-setting.

He ripped the stupid rule posters off the wall which had covered his own detailed drawings of herbs, poisonous creatures and fungi and sneered in disgust at some of them.

Rule number one stated, _"All students must greet the teacher with the appropriate salutation—Professor, Madam, Head Inquirer or Lady."_ Severus snorted at that one. There was another ridiculous one about how students should dress, keep themselves clean and sit along with another rule about how they should think. _"Any thought that is not appropriate to the class, school or teacher/inquirer should never be expressed aloud or allowed."_

Severus always took it for granted that most of his students (those who were not Slytherin) were cursing him behind his back and never bothered to regulate what they were thinking. He thought this rule was a bit much and had struck a much darker chord too close to home.

Then there was the final rule which gotten him under the skin. _"A learning environment is a _happy_ environment and should be kept so."_ This disgusting twist on Umbridge's idea of a happy environment seemed to consist of lurid pink table cloths, sappy kitten plates and too many stinking flowers—all of which Severus threw away from his office. Filch had cleaned up the items as fast as Severus threw them out into the hallway.

_No doubt to store in his closet of an office as a memento._ As soon as Severus thought this he shuddered. Filch and his crush on Umbridge was definitely unnatural.

Now that his office was back to normal it was time to get back to work.

_It was good to be back…_

He had some unfinished business to attend to.

--

"I finally did it!"

Neville gave an ecstatic cry and surprised Hermione out of her studying trance during lunch.

"Did what?" she asked distractedly.

"I did what you told me to do, well, almost." He smiled at her.

"Oh…" she still looked blank, "I'm sorry but what did I tell you to do?"

"About Professor Snape. I didn't let him get to me and now I'm not afraid of him at all. In fact, after yesterday I think I sort of understand him much better now. I know why he's so grumpy all of the time. He's just lonely and doesn't have any friends."

"Right…" Hermione shut her book and looked hard at Neville. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Neville actually looked a little giddy.

"What happened yesterday that made you feel this way today?" she asked.

"I baked Professor Snape some cookies."

"You did _what_?" Hermione's enormous book fell off her lap as she sat forward and stared into his face. She could not believe what she was hearing. "Why did you do that? I didn't tell you to bake him some cookies—"  
A horrified look came into her eyes. "Oh no, you didn't actually give them to him did you?"

"Yeah but don't worry I made them without any milk ingredients." Neville was about to go into how he knew about Professor Snape's lactose intolerance when Hermione jumped up, totally unaware that the twenty pound book she was reading had fallen on her foot.

"Oh no, oh no! This is bad, quick we have to do something… The hospital wing, maybe Madam Pomfrey can smuggle them out… oh no…" Hermione was wringing her hands desperately.

"What are you talking about? He already ate them and he liked them, all the cookies were gone." He felt a bit hurt that Hermione didn't trust his cooking skills.

"But you can't give cookies to Snape! Not only is that the most outrageous thing to do but—" she gave him a glance, "He might think you're up to something…"

"I'm not up to something! I was just trying to be nice after what happened to him and that was partly your fault!" Neville got up from his bean bag chair and stormed out of the portrait hole from Gryffindor tower. He hadn't expected this from Hermione but wanted to be congratulated on a job well done. It wasn't everyday that a student could brag about making cookies for Professor Snape and live to tell the tale. He thought that Hermione was probably just jealous because she hadn't managed to break the ice with Professor Snape and understand him as well as Neville did.

Later during Care of Magical Creatures Neville thought he would back up his theory about Professor Snape and why he was so miserable. Neville felt partially responsible for making Snape feel so bad, figuratively and literally.

He decided to ask Hagrid about his thoughts on the subject.

"Do you talk to Professor Snape a lot?"

"Not if I can help it." Hagrid answered gruffly.

Neville had asked Hagrid this as he stood in the shade of Hagrid's enormous bulk while he helped clean up the last of the stalls for the Nifflers. The Nifflers were cute but they made an awful mess in their pens and it took a half an hour just to re-patch all the dirt the Nifflers dug up.

"Why not? You helped him with that Garffghoul creature."

"That was only on Dumbledore's behalf and no more." Hagrid brushed the last of the dirt from his hands and accidentally rained clods of dirt on Neville's head. "I try to avoid Snape most a'the time. I don't much like him 'ter be honest." He turned and put his massive shovel in the corner of the animal pen.

"I know he's mean and pushes people away but I've always wondered what he's really like, especially since I've gotten to know him better." Neville mused.

"_Really now_?" Hagrid stopped and looked at him. "What brought this on? I thought you wanted nothin' to do with him."

"I used to think that but… I've changed my mind. I think maybe he's misunderstood and just wants someone to talk to, you know, like a friend." He tried to explain this to Hagrid but was met with an incredulous stare.

"Well now… Don't be puttin' too much on 'yer self now. I don't think Snape needs anyone for a friend anymore than a Manticore does, if 'ya know what I mean."

_Well maybe you're wrong_. Neville thought this to himself as he helped Hagrid close up the pen. The Nifflers were sleeping soundly after their lunch, about as soundly as their grumbling snorts would allow.

Neville was not deterred by Hagrid's comment but was only more determined to prove he was right and also get more information about Professor Snape. This led him to the unfortunate conversation with Filch.

"_What do you want?!_" Filch looked over from his stained parchment and his eyes bulged at Neville as if to accuse him of a crime he had yet to commit.

"Excuse me, sir, I just wanted to talk to you about something…" He wasn't sure how to begin. It was only by his determination that he was here in Filch's office. If anyone else knew he was here he would probably die of embarrassment. Filch was not a favorite of the student's and so Neville assumed he shared the same unpopularity as Professor Snape in that department. Who better to ask about Professor Snape than Filch?

"Who's done it this time? The Weasley's I bet, doesn't matter which one, just tell me where they are so I can get to it—" Filch brought out a menacing piece of rawhide strip that looked suspiciously like a whip. His cat was curled up on his lap and looked at Neville with her yellow eyes. It made him nervous.

"I wanted to ask about Professor Snape, sir—" Neville rushed out.

"Professor Snape?" Filch spit this out like a sour grape. "What does he want?"

"Nothing, sir. I just wanted to talk to you about him." He started to sweat.

"Why would you want to do that?" Filch's gaze on Neville matched that of his cat.

"I just wondered if he talks to you about anything, that's all." He slowly backed out of the office as Filch leaned over the desk to look at Neville with a near-sited stare.

"What is this about?" He growled.

"Uh—nothing. Sorry to bother you." With that Neville quickly walked away from Filch's office as fast as his stocky legs would carry him. He would just have to find another source of information.

It took him an hour to find his way to the kitchens where the elfs were busy preparing for dinner. He spotted Winky by her usual spot but like Filch, she didn't look like she was in a mood to talk to anyone. Neville was about to leave when there was a _pop_ and Dobby appeared.

"Hello again, Neville!" He was certainly a cheerful welcome opposite of Filch.

"Hi Dobby, do have a few minutes to talk? I wanted to ask you something." Neville carefully seated himself away from Winky and faced Dobby who was as eager to talk as he was about everything else.

"Yes, certainly! What is troubling you?" He politely listened to Neville.

"It's not something that's troubling me exactly…" He wanted to phrase his question carefully, keeping in mind Hagrid's reaction. "But rather, it's what's troubling Professor Snape."

This seemed to have put Dobby off and there was a stunned expression on his face.

"But why would Neville, sir, care about Professor Snape?"

His confused face almost made Neville laugh but he said instead, "I want to know why he's so miserable most of the time."

Dobby looked away and for a moment Neville didn't think he would answer but at last he said, "There is much that troubles Professor Snape but of course, I am only a house-elf and do not know anything about those matters…" He paused then continued, "Professor Snape does not tell his troubles to anyone but as to why he's miserable it might be because he shuts himself away so much in that dark dungeon of his and—" Dobby clapped his hands to his mouth.

"And what?" Neville urged him to go on.

"Oh no, I've said too much already. A house elf does not say things like that…" He looked around and Neville remembered what Harry had said about house-elfs punishing themselves.

"Don't worry I won't say anything about what you said. I just want to understand Professor Snape better in order to try to talk to him." _And maybe be his friend_, he added.

"But that is very brave of you, Neville, sir. Foolish but very brave." Dobby nodded.

"Why did you say it was foolish?" He was getting disappointed again.

"Professor Snape keeps to himself for a reason and that is a reason he shares with no one." Dobby added in a whisper, "I don't think even the Headmaster Dumbledore knows why."

Neville thought back to the ghost girl he saw in the bathroom. Maybe people (or ghosts) like that preferred being miserable. But he couldn't stand the thought of someone making themselves miserable on purpose unless they had done something really bad and were guilty. Neville didn't want to think about that and instead resolved to cheer Professor Snape up the only way he knew how.

"I'm going to bake some more cookies."

Dobby gave a nervous smile and watched as Neville set out to accomplish an impossible task but wished him luck just the same.  
--

Not even his detention with Professor Snape had put a damper on his mood. He had his cookies ready to bring with him on the tray and with his other hand raised it to knock but before he did that the door opened and he stood face to face with the Headmaster Dumbledore.

Neville nearly dropped the tray of cookies.

"Oh, hello, Professor—uh, sir—uh Headmaster…" He forgot which title he should use.

"Oh just call me Dumbledore, everyone else does." The Headmaster eyed the tray of cookies with interest. "What do we have here?"

"Um cookies, sir—Dumbledore." He nervously raised the linen cover and before he could protest the Headmaster took one and tasted it.

_Oh well, I don't think Professor Snape will notice one missing_, he thought before the Headmaster took another one.

"These are delicious! Did you bake these yourself?"

Neville nodded.

"Wonderful! I think you've found your calling." The Headmaster took a few more.

"I just came here for my detention with Professor Snape." He nervously looked past the door but couldn't see him yet.

"Ah yes. Are you two getting along well?" There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes as he said this but even with all of his years in experience with students, he still wasn't prepared for Neville's answer.

"Yes, much better, sir. Thank you."

Dumbledore stopped chewing for a moment then swallowed. "Well, I'm glad to hear it." He looked confused but only for a moment. "I must be going then… Umbridge doesn't like to be kept waiting."

The Headmaster gave Neville a friendly nod but he noticed Dumbledore seemed to be dawdling just a bit on his way as if he too were facing a detention he would rather not go to.

Neville looked at his batch of cookies, there were still some there, and went inside the dungeon classroom.

He thought now it would be a little easier since he had broken ground with the cookies.

He was wrong.

--

Severus was not in a mood for conversation.

Dumbledore had just left his office after giving him a terse reprimand about Umbridge.

"She may not be an elected official by us but she still is an official, a _Ministry _official and I would remind you, Severus, to keep that in mind."

It just went on and on.

And now the little Longbottom brat was trying to strike up a conversation with him as if they were (he almost retched) _friends._

"What do you like to do in your spare time when you're not teaching?"

The boy was busily working scrubbing the gunk from under the tables and chairs of the classroom. Something like this normally would've been a dreadful assignment but somehow this boy didn't even notice as he chattered away incessantly.

"First of all, _Longbottom_, you will address me as _sir _and _nothing else—do you understand_?"

It was only a moment's notice the boy took before he opened his mouth again, "Sorry, sir. I just wanted to know what your interests were."

"_It is none of your business what my interests are!_" He had said furiously as he looked into the big naïve eyes of a boy who used to fear him.

For a long time he said nothing which made Severus wonder if he had finally gotten through to the boy. A teacher and student were not meant to talk about such things, _especially _a Slytherin teacher and a Gryffindor student. But as usual this boy was thick in the head.

"What else do you like to eat, sir?"

That was the final straw.

"_Enough of this_!" Severus got up and stormed toward the boy. "You are not allowed to ask me such questions and I will certainly not answer them to the likes of you. Where did you ever get the idea that I would wish to talk with _you?_"

The Longbottom boy looked stunned and answered sheepishly, "I didn't mean to be rude. I just thought you would like to talk to someone since you're always alone."

"I don't want to talk to anyone, particularly you." Severus answered tersly.

"I was just trying to be nice." Longbottom stopped scraping the sticky substance off the floor and looked up at Severus. "I don't know why you're being so mean. You liked the cookies I brought you well enough. I don't see why you're in such a bad mood."

"My mood is none of your concern, now get back to work." He immediately stalked back to his desk and pulled out a book and started reading while the boy (thankfully) went back to cleaning up the classroom gunk.

The minutes passed in silence as Severus pretended to read through meaningless lines and words until he saw the blanks between the sentences forming into pictures that played in his mind.

Finally the silence was broken but not by him.

"Why do you like potions so much?" Neville asked him

"What makes you think I _like _potions?" he glanced up and stared at the boy from his book.

"You must like what you do or you wouldn't be so good at it." Longbottom calmly dropped his scraping spatula into the bucket of filthy water and waited for a reply.

Severus thought back to when he mixed his first potion (or rather drink)…

--

His father was always a heavy drinker. (Though he never knew why until he was older but that's another story). So, there were always many liqueur bottles on the high table that Severus' father would go to every afternoon, morning, evening and night.

His father would go over to the wet bar and from the many different colored bottles that there were, he would take one and pour it into a glass. As Severus watched from his hidey-hole under the stairs his father would take another bottle and then another, each time pouring the contents into the glass until he was satisfied, then he would take a drink.

These bottles mystified Severus with their different shapes and different colored contents. He would stare at them while the afternoon sunshine filtered through the curtains, making the bottles glow as they threw amber colored patterns on the wall.

One day while his father was away, Severus decided to try to open the bottles, just to see what was inside.

After he had pushed a chair over to the wet bar and climbed on he brought a bottle over to him and with a short tug, pulled the cork out of the square bottle holding the brown liquid. He stuck his nose in and winced, it smelled terrible and he couldn't imagine his father wanting to drink anything as horrible as that.

_Then again_, Severus thought to himself, _maybe that's why his father kept mixing all the other bottles together—to get rid of the bad taste._

So with that thought, he took another bottle and then another and poured it into the big square one that had held the brown bad-smelling liquid and took a swig. It immediately burned his throat but as he coughed the liquid make him choke and worse yet, it was coming out of his nose. Severus turned around as he sputtered and accidentally knocked the big square bottle over. It crashed to the floor and broke, spilling brown and amber liquid all over the rug.  
While he was still in his coughing fit he managed to clamber down the chair to pick up the pieces and shove them in the cabinet under the wet bar. The rug was wet but it would dry. However, as Severus looked up at the bar, it was obvious his father would notice the big square bottle wasn't there. He climbed back onto the chair and put the rest of the bottles back. He was going to need a replacement for the one he had broken but he had a plan.  
Severus always had a plan.

He went up to his mother's room and on her dressing room table found a similar bottle just like the one his father kept the liquor. It had a different cork in it but he could switch that with the other one. Severus came out of his mother's room and went into the bathroom then poured the bottle of perfume down the sink. It smelled a lot better than what his father drank.  
He came down the stairs and got up onto the chair while being careful not to drop the bottle as he put it back where the other one had been. He had already mixed more of the liquids from the other bottles into the big one before he switched the stoppers and moved the chair back. He saw the dark brown rug had absorbed most of the spilled liquor and the stain wasn't as noticeable as before.  
Everything looked as it should have and so Severus went upstairs and back to his mother's room. He had seen more bottles on her dressing table and wanted to experiment with their contents.

It was a lot more fun than mixing the liquor had been.

Unfortunately, Severus' father didn't appreciate having his drink mixed together in one bottle. As Severus found out from watching under the stairs, his father didn't like anything changed _at all. _

It was later in the evening when Severus' father came home and Severus took his usual place under the stairs.

He saw his father pour the liquor from the square bottle into a glass and after adding ice, his father took a big sip—before he spat it out.

"_WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?_" he shouted out into the empty room.

Severus crouched back in case his father should happen to spot him.

His father slammed his drink down on the bar and ran upstairs.

As Severus slowly came out of his hiding place he could hear his father yelling at his mother. He didn't pay much attention to this usual 'evening conversation' between his parents so he went over to the bar and standing on the tips of his toes, he reached for the drink.  
He stuck his nose in the glass and smelled the liqueur. It still smelled bad but Severus also thought he could detect a trace of his mother's perfume in it. He took a sip and retched. Now the drink tasted like turpentine and his mother's lily perfume.

He had forgotten to rinse the square bottle out first before replacing it.

It was a hard lesson for Severus to learn. 'Never leave a trace when you replace'. But he knew better now. That was his first experience in mixing different liquids together. He had always enjoyed experimenting to see what would happen but unfortunately the only thing that happened with his experiment that time was a foul concoction of bad tasting liquor and a beating from his father.  
However, that didn't stop Severus from experimenting afterwards and he still tried to mix everything he could to see its effect. His mother hadn't minded that Severus had mixed her perfume and even congratulated him on coming up with another scent for her to wear—away from his father, of course.  
Severus had a real knack for mixing things which came in extra handy when he was finally brought to Hogwarts. Severus was pleased because now he could mix much more interesting things together. Like poisons.

--

Severus answered with a smirk, "I just do."

He shut the book he wasn't really reading then looked at Longbottom. "Wash those buckets out before you go."

"I'm dismissed?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, you'll need your strength for tomorrow. There's something I've been working on and I want your… _input_." Severus twisted his mouth into a wry smile which the boy mistook as he cheerfully wished him a good evening before he left.

The boy was going to be surprised but it would not be a happy surprise, not at all.

--

Severus held a vial of greenish black liquid.

It was a modification of what he had been working on before he had been interrupted by Umbridge and her annoying 'check-ins' with the teachers.

It was all he could do not to chuck the bottle at her frog-like face as she reminded him with a sickening smile that she was allowed to do whatever she pleased.

"I've been given permission by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, in order to ensure the proper education and running of this school which I am—"

And of course this went on for several minutes while Severus was busy putting the vials away before she could see what was in them.

_Yes, I know_, Severus thought while she was speaking, _You're allowed to butt in, change the rules, re-arrange and re-decorate my office with sickening displays of frills and stick your big, fat, ugly, little—_

He didn't have time to finish as he was interrupted again by her, she seemed to have asked him a question.

"I'm waiting for your answer, _Professor_."

"I'm sure you will do whatever your job allows you to do and I will do my job as I see fit." That sounded pretty good.

"You will do your job, _Severus,_ as I see fit for you to do it. That is _my job_." She finished smugly.

"Yes, of course." He brushed by her to the door and held it open, as he spoke, "Now if you'll excuse me…"

She gave another smug smile as she left and he could have vomited right then.

It wasn't until that evening that he got his wish.

--

"Come here, Longbottom, I want to test this…"

"What is it?" the boy asked in his usual quivering and irritating tone.

"It's poison. I need to test it."

"No!" he backed away from Severus, outraged. "I'm not going to be your guinea pig for your poisons! You can't make me!" He resolutely folded his hands over his mouth.

"Fine then you little coward, I'll take it myself. I need to test its potency. Here…" Severus took out another small bottle and held it in front of the boy's wary eyes. "You will give this to me after I take the poison because I will be unable to do it myself as I will shortly be paralyzed and unable to move. _You will give this to me…_" Severus repeated dangerously, "_Right after_ I have taken the potion, do you _understand_?"

The boy nodded, still holding his mouth shut.

"Good. Now take your hands off your mouth you stupid boy and take the vial—no, not the poison you dolt!" The boy almost dropped it. "Take _this_ bottle with the antidote!"

Severus wrenched the stopper off the bottle then took a swig. Immediately the world started going dark. Apparently he had used to much of the—

--

"Professor?" Neville stood there for a moment before he dropped down to his knees next to the sprawled pale body of his former nemesis. "Oh no, please…"

He fumbled for a moment with the antidote before his trembling fingers managed to pull the cork off. He poised the bottle over Snape's mouth, unsure of the amount to use he poured all the contents into it, nothing happened.

"Oh no!" Neville was beside himself and all he could do was shout, "Help! Somebody help!"

Frantically he whipped out his wand before he remembered what Hermione said about using magic on a teacher which was just as well because the only spell he could think of was _Expelliarmus _and that wouldn't solve anything.

Professor Snape had poisoned himself and there was no one else except Neville to save him. Neville, who knew next to nothing about potions, poisons or antidotes. He felt just as foolish as he had the first time, the first day he took potions when he came to Hogwarts. He had injured himself then too and nothing had changed since that time. Nothing except now his Potions Professor was lying on the floor dying while he stood around helplessly.

"HELP!" he yelled again.

An answer came but it was someone he hadn't expected. There was a loud _pop _and Dobby appeared.

"What is it, sir?" he looked just as worried as Neville felt.

"He's poisoned himself and I don't know what to do—" Dobby looked helplessly back and forth from Neville to Snape.

"Oh, if only Potter were here, he'd know, sir…" The elf moaned piteously but Neville thought back, to that very first day in Potions class. It wasn't Potter who knew what to do, it was Hermione. Something about a stone—the Sorcerer's Stone?—No, another stone—from a goat!

"A goat!" Neville yelled.

"What, sir?" Dobby yipped.

"A stone from a goat, uh a…" he couldn't think of what it was called, "from it's stomach, a stone from a goat!" He racked his mind but still couldn't find the name.

He was taking too much time, Snape would be dead for sure.

"A…" _Salazar…Beelzebub… a—_"Bezoar!"

"Yes, sir!" Dobby seemed to know what he was talking about and Disapparated at once before he Apparated again holding a stone.

Neville quickly shoved it in Snape's mouth and held his head up then remembered the Professor was unconscious and couldn't swallow. He put the stone under his tongue and hoped the remedy method with aspirin worked the same with the Bezoar stone.

The elf Disapparated again and it wasn't long until both the Headmaster Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey came.

Neville couldn't have been more grateful or more guilty. He didn't know which he felt more and didn't care. He just hoped Professor Snape was still alive.

--

"You saved his life."

Dumbledore was standing over the bed of the unconscious Potions teacher, Severus Snape, while Madame Pomfrey rushed about, as usual, muttering sentences about incompetent teachers and dangerous poisons.

Neville Longbottom, who never in his life accomplished more than a good grade in Herbology, was numb with shock and stood beside Dumbledore.

"He's alive?" he asked trembling.

"Yes, of course. He's just paralyzed for now but still alive." He gave an assuring smile which did nothing to cheer Neville up.

"Oh."

"Well, I better let Umbridge know he's all right before she moves her things in his office again." He turned to Neville and said, "Snape always underestimates the strength of his poisons, among other things." Dumbledore gave his usual mysterious wink to Neville while he was left to think about what Dumbledore said and why.

"Venomous Tentacula sap! Of all the things for him to experiment on!" Madame Pomfrey was whispering so loudly to Dumbledore that Neville couldn't help overhearing some of it. He was about to get up and leave when he heard a groaning moan on the hospital bed. Neville looked at Snape, whose pale face was scrunched in pain.

"Ughhh…" he groaned, "I feel like crap."

"Well, you did just get poisoned, sir." Neville answered him and as usual, it was the wrong thing to say.

"What am I doing here?" Snape frail voice was creeping up to a growl and he unsuccessfully tried to sit up then groaned again.

"I think you better take it easy, that poison you made was pretty strong. I'm not sure how that Bezoar stone saved you but it might have some bad side effects. I guess you'll have to spend another night in the hospital wing." Neville apologized.

"I'm not spending another—wait a minute, did you say a Bezoar stone? How did you know a Bezoar stone saved me?" Snape eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, that's what I used when I…uh," Neville backed away from the bed as he saw that Snape looked ready to pounce (sick or not he could still attack), "I saved your life…" he trailed off.

"YOU WHAT?!" Snape tore the covers off and was about to grab him by the throat when he felt his vision going black again.

"Lay down, Severus." It was Dumbledore who spoke this time and his voice issued a warning to Snape, who immediately obeyed.

"I will not suffer the humiliation of being _saved_ by a Griffindor brat, a Longbottom brat especially—"

"That's enough, Severus." Dumbledore had walked over to Neville and gently put a hand on his shoulder. "I think you had better head back to your common room. I believe you've done enough for tonight." He nodded to Neville who gave one last look at Snape (he shouldn't have done so, it would give him nightmares tonight) and quickly made his way out of the hospital wing.

--

"This is unbearable, insufferable, inconceivable—" Severus swore out loud.

"Severus…" Dumbledore chose to ignore the swearing and kept his eyes averted.

"Unbelievable, unconscionable, intolerable—" he couldn't find the words to express his outrage.

"Severus—" Dumbledore started.

"Unthinkable, unimaginable, implausible—" he kept on.

"Severus!" Dumbledore wasn't going to be interrupted now, "Aside from your obvious responsibility as Professor, you must know the responsibility you have under _your obligation_ to me and this school…"

"Yes, of course, but—" Severus started but Dumbledore put his hand up.

"To the students, as well as Potter and—"

"Now, Longbottom." He finished.

Dumbledore said nothing for a moment but stood in silence as Severus sat in the hospital bed, deep in thought.

"I need not tell you that Neville Longbottom may prove a valuable asset to you in the future." Dumbledore broke the silence.

"I doubt that," sneered Severus.

"_Still,_" Dumbledore calmly replied, "I do think he has gained from you more than you'll ever know."

"It was _your_ idea that I spend detention with him, otherwise I would've have just sent him over to Umbridge." Severus pointed out.

"Yes, but I don't think Umbridge would've gained much of an ally with Neville, as you have done."

"He's no ally to me! He is mistaken, that is all, a foolish folly that has made him think of me as a friend." He finished with his usual sneer and was about to settle himself down when Dumbledore spoke again.

"A person could use a friend, especially a person like you, Severus."

"A person like me doesn't have any friends—and for good reason." Severus stared Dumbledore down but the old man only sighed and nodded then left the room.

Whatever Dumbledore had thought would happen with Neville and Severus was a mistake. And if Dumbledore thought that Severus was going to help Neville, that was also another mistake. Severus was as different from Neville as night and day and that was the way it was going to stay. No matter what Dumbledore had set up.

Severus settled down to a restless sleep as his troubled dreams left him no comfort.

Tomorrow was another day, same as before.

--

A/N: Sorry to end on such a low note but I wanted to emphasize what was going on between Neville and Snape (and Dumbledore's part in it) to tie up some loose ends. Next chapter: Detention with Umbridge! Dun, dun dun! Do you think Neville will lose it? Read all about it! (When I get it posted…) Thanks for your Support!


	6. Umbridge's Umbrage

(Chapter 6: Umbridge's Umbrage)

Neville couldn't concentrate during History of Magic so he just sat there and stared at the wall, which happened to be right through Professor Binns. Too many things were running through his mind, many of those were of the events last night.

He hadn't explained his long absence from the common room but only told his friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione, that he had been to the Hospital wing.

"_Again?_" Ron blurted out.

"Honestly, Neville, this is going too far. You should report it to Dumbledore." Ron nodded emphatically to Hermione's suggestion.

"No, I can't…I mean…he already knows." Neville looked at the three of them who looked too aghast for words.

"Wait, a minute," Harry paused, "He knows that you've been going to the Hospital wing because of Snape?"

"Yes," Neville wanted to say more on the matter but he didn't for some reason. "He knows. I mean, he knows about Snape—uh, Professor Snape, I mean…" He corrected himself.

"Did you just correct yourself?" Ron asked with disbelief. "What happened to just plain Snape, or rather, Snape the Biggest Git Ever to Come and Teach at Hogwarts?"

Hermione sighed, "Ron, that's enough."

"If Dumbledore knows about what's going on, why isn't he helping you?" Harry seemed to be asking this question as much to himself as to Neville. "I mean, why doesn't he do anything?"

Neville just shrugged and finally said, "Rules are rules, I guess. Anyway my detention's almost over and…I'm tired, so I should get to bed."

He was on the foot of the stairs as he looked back at the three of them. He had wondered why they were waiting for him at this late an hour but figured with all the trouble Umbridge was giving the students, they might've thought she had kidnapped him.

"Goodnight." Hermione and Ron nodded goodnight but Harry didn't respond so Neville went up the tower stairs, lost in his own thoughts.

Neville had felt guilty about not telling them what really happened with Professor Snape and how he, Neville Longbottom—the failure of Potions class, had managed to save his life. He also noticed that Harry hadn't known what Neville had done, even though Dobby was sure to have told him.

_Did Dumbledore tell Dobby not to say anything to Harry?_ Neville wondered. _But why?_

It may have been the same reason Neville hadn't told his friends. Saving a wizard's life was a serious thing—it was a life debt.

_But that never would've happened if he hadn't tested that stupid potion…_ Neville remembered.

He also remembered Professor Snape had originally meant for him to take the potion. If Neville had almost died and was saved by Professor Snape then he would've owed his life to him. Even though Hogwarts' rules had strictly forbidden a student to be poisoned in class, there were exceptions. Neville remembered how Colin Creevy had been poisoned by Professor Snape and was saved at the last minute. Did Colin owe his life to Professor Snape?

The stuffy air in the classroom was getting to him as Professor Binns droned on and on about some Goblin war. Neville was glad when the break after History of Magic came. Unfortunately, it was right before double Potions.

For once Potions class wasn't as terrible as it usually was.

Professor Snape pretty much ignored Neville the whole time and didn't so much as curl his lip when he inspected the cauldron. It also helped that they happened to be working on a Digestive Draught—which included the same ingredient Neville had painfully obtained from the Garffghoul.

"All right that's long enough. Bring your vials up here." Professor Snape sat at his desk, eyes sharply to the front. Each of the students came up, brining their different colored vials.

Neville's own vial resembled a pasty grey but he thought it was a lot better than Ron's vial, which had turned a neon green.

"What on earth did you put in yours, Ron?" Hermione hissed to him.

"I just followed the instructions like it said, chopped Diricawl claw—"

"No, Ron, it's not supposed to be chopped…and you don't put it in before the fernuncula fungi."

Hermione held her vial up. It was a pearlescent blue. At least Neville's vial wasn't too far off from the color…if you were colorblind, that was.

He went up to Snape's desk and presented the vial. He half-expected to see Snape's usual sneer but the Professor only marked it off and uttered, "_Next_."

All in all it was probably the best Potions class Neville had completed.

"I guess Umbridge shook him up a bit." Harry turned in his vial but as usual got a low mark even though his vial was more of a dark blue color. "He might have to watch his back a little more closely."

They were walking back toward the Great Hall where they split up and took their different seats at Griffindor table.

Fred and George were conferring silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione were talking amongst themselves. Later, Ginny, Cho Chang from Ravenclaw and her friend Marietta stopped by to talk about the meeting for Dumbledore's Army, the secret self defense class Harry had set up in light of Dolores Umbridge's stubborn anti-magic Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Neville had had to skip some of the meetings because of his detention but luckily he caught up fast with the help of Harry, whom he was usually paired up with.

Neville quickly finished his lunch and looked toward the teacher's tables. Only a few of the teachers were missing, Dumbledore and Snape included, but Neville noted nervously that Professor Umbridge was present and accounted for.

She was watching Griffindor table the way a cat would look at a mouse hole, waiting to see if anything would come out.

Her eyes met his and her big ugly faced stretched in a wide toothy grin.

Neville quickly looked away. His stomach was churning his last meal uneasily.

The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Umbridge was walking slowly between the desks of the students. She casually brought her wand out to summon a bit of parchment from Parvati who was writing to Lavender.

"Five points from Griffindor." She sweetly simpered. "There's no note passing allowed in my class." She quickly read the content of the note then crumpled it in her pudgy hand before vanishing it with her wand. "Continue reading from your books, please."

Even though it was double DADA, all they did was read and recite passages from books like, "Defending the Un-armed: Choosing Your Words Carefully Against Curses", "Silence is Golden: Defiance Without Dissidence", and "What You Don't Know Can Help You: How Paranoia is Harmful".

They were all pretty much the same with the same message, See No Evil, Hear No Evil and Speak No Evil. In this case, evil seemed to be anything having to do with magical self-defense. Even though they were constantly being warned about outer threats (including Muggles, in Umbridge's case), they were not supposed to do anything about it. It was constant vigilance without the vigilance.

Neville didn't see how this was any help to the students. It wasn't even practical. How were you supposed to guard yourself against a Blasting Hex with conversation like, "What you do to me, you are doing to yourself."? Neville doubted very much that Malfoy would feel a Blasting Hex if he were aiming it at Neville while he was un-armed.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't see Umbridge looming over him in her bright frilly pink robes. He caught himself looking up into her pale malevolent eyes.

"We're all on page 46, Longbottom, if you can catch up to the rest of the class."

"Uh…yes, Professor Umbridge." He flipped forward a few pages then stared at the page, not reading a single word.

"See me after class, Longbottom." Professor Umbridge walked to her desk which was covered in a lacy pink cloth.

She continued to watch Neville as he furtively looked up from time to time from his book.

What could he possibly have done now?

When class was over he slowly walked up to her desk.

Umbridge stared down at him then beckoned him to her side as she briskly walked out of the class and made her way to her own office. On the door was the golden plaque of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

"Hurry up, come in." She waved her stubby ring be-decked hand and Neville went inside, feeling like he had just entered the lion's den.

"Sit down, sit down."

Umbridge settled herself rather fussily into her plush chair. She waved her wand and the flowered pot of tea magically started to whistle. She made her own cup of tea, adding quite a bit of sugar, all the while never taking so much as a glance at Neville.

He waited patiently while she finished her small ritual.

She slurped a small sip and smiled.

"You and I need to have a little chat."

Neville felt his throat go dry and he swallowed hard as his tongue seemed to go numb.

"About what?"

Umbridge's smile faltered a little but perked right up as she made another cup of tea. She set the cup and saucer in front of Neville.

"How is your detention with Professor Snape?"

Neville couldn't read the expression of hers beyond the usual simpering smile so he answered truthfully, "I thought he was going to kill me."

"Really?" Her tone wasn't surprised.

"I mean at first, he was really angry with me."

"And why did you receive your detention with Professor Snape?" She leaned forward ever so slightly.

"Because I lost my temper." Neville looked down, embarrassed.

"Why did you lose your temper?" It was as if she were trying to get at something Neville was hiding.

"Because…because he made me angry…he insulted me." He didn't meet her eyes and certainly didn't like where this was going. What business was it of hers what Professor Snape did to him?

"Why does he insult you, Neville?"

"He just does! I don't know why!" Neville looked up and suddenly wished he hadn't. Umbridge's smile seemed to have grown wider within her fat face.

"You must've done _something_ to make him insult you…" Her mouth may have been a ghastly smile but her eyes were shining sharply with no humor.

"I didn't…he does that with everyone—everyone but the Slytherins, that is…" He didn't touch his tea and didn't want to. He wanted to leave. Right now.

"Shall I ask the Slytherins what they think of him, then?" Her tone was oddly inquisitive, as if she were pretending to care.

"Go ahead. They'll probably defend him, he's the head of their house." Neville didn't really care one way or the other.

Then all of a sudden Umbridge asked a question so far off that Neville almost didn't hear her correctly. "Do you blame him, Neville?"

"What?"

"Do you blame Professor Snape for your problems in class?" She had a strange look on a her face. It was something close to sympathy, though in her case it looked like she had swallowed a sour pill.

"I don't have any problems in class."

"Hmm, hmm." She had clasped her hands in front of her and was staring him down, nodding and nodding at nothing at all. "How do you feel toward Professor Snape?"

"I don't feel anything. I mean I used to hate him but now I don't because—"

"Because why?" She sharply interrupted.

He didn't like where this was going. Not at all. "I think I understand him better now. I think I know why he's so mean."

"Why is he mean, Neville?"

Well, at least she stopped asking questions about himself. He thought carefully before answering.

"I think he's just lonely…"

"Hmm, hmm." Umbridge did that weird nodding again. "Do you feel lonely, Neville?"

Now she was talking about him again! Why did she keep twisting the conversation around?

"I…uh…not really. I mean I have friends…"

"Do you?" She didn't seem to believe him.

"Yes, I mean I talk to my friends, Ginny, Luna and Hermione." He nervously watched Umbridge's reaction then hastily added, "And Harry, Ron…sometimes Fred and George."

"Hmmm." Umbridge gave a disapproving nod.

Neville didn't mention Dobby for obvious reasons. He didn't think Umbridge would approve of him being friends with Dobby. But then again, why did he care what Umbridge thought?

"Are you a trouble-maker, Neville?"

That came out of nowhere.

"No! I'm not."

"Then I would suggest you choose your friends more carefully. The Weasley twins are hardly suitable companions for someone such as yourself. As for the rest of them, well…" Umbridge gave a distasteful pause, "I would suggest you try making friends with someone closer to your…standards."

Neville was speechless.

"I can be your friend, Neville." She reached out slowly and Neville had to use all his self control not to jerk back as she put her large pudgy cold hand on his. "I'm sure we have a _lot_ in common."

Neville dimly nodded his head.

"Why don't we arrange another tea time, just the two of us, hmm? We can talk about your aggressive feelings and try to sort them out."

"I don't have any aggressive…" He tried to explain but he saw the patronizing look Umbridge was giving him and decided not to bother. "Yes, Professor Umbridge."

"Oh, you can call me, Dolores—at least in my office, dear, while it's just the two of us, ok?" She gave another hard pat on his hand.

He nodded once more and was about to get up when Umbridge spoke up.

"And don't you worry about Professor Snape and that detention. I'll speak to him later, dear, and clear that right up."

"Ok." Umbridge seemed to be waiting for something, so he added, "Thank you—Dolores."

She grinned her horrible toothy smile and Neville excused himself from her office.

By the time Neville reached the Great Hall, dinner was almost over. He sat down and helped himself to the leftovers though he wasn't feeling particularly hungry at the moment.

He had no idea why Umbridge had had that strange talk with him or why she had asked so many strange questions. He decided to just ignore it.

Severus was angrily scratching his quill in his book. It wasn't precisely a journal but rather a notebook he kept to write things in.

Things like, "Why the hell do I have to put up with this?" and other rantings such as, "If only I could kill myself…"

It helped to write things down in case he forgot. Anytime he felt an inkling of goodwill toward someone, he would hastily pull out his little notebook and look up their name, seeing all the nasty stuff he had written down about them. That usually did the trick.

He was just finishing his list on Dumbledore when he looked up at the clock. It was twenty past six. The Longbottom brat was late for his detention. He hastily flipped to the page with Longbottom on it.

"_Stupid…_

"_Fat…_

"_Gryffindor…_

"_Friend of Potter's..."_

The last one was unforgivable.

Just then a sharp rapping knock came from the door to his office.

"What is it now?" He sat up from his stooped writing position.

"Hogwarts High Inquisitor." The voice behind the door made him suddenly want to scratch his neck and back very badly. He could already feel the attack of hives coming on. He was going to need more essence of murtlap tonight.

Severus raised his wand in preparation as he saw the knob turn. He had put a stunning spell on the entrance to his office and it was heavily enforced.

The door opened.

It was followed by a high pitched gasping squeal.

Severus quickly spoke the counter-curse, but not too quickly.

The door slowly creaked open and Umbridge stood there looking a bit out of sorts. Her wand hung limply from her hand and her ordinarily neat bright red hair looked a bit frizzy and was standing on end.

"_What was that spell?"_ She harshly whispered.

Severus calmly walked to the door trying to repress a sudden urge to fall on the floor laughing his behind off.

"It's a stunning hex, meant to shock any intruder who dares to enter unannounced into my office."

With quick sudden jerks, Umbridge straightened her frizzy hair. "I believe I had properly announced myself before I came in!"

"I must not have heard…I was busy waiting for a student to arrive for their detention." He turned back to his desk, not even bothering to look at Umbridge.

"Yes, I know. Longbottom and I had a nice little chat about that."

Severus looked at her with his brow raised. The fat stupid woman had conjured up a pink plushy chair in front of his desk and sat without invitation. He noted that the chair must've had a built-in booster cushion, otherwise Umbridge wouldn't have been able to see him from across his desk.

"What did he say about it?" Severus was oddly curious about what Neville Longbottom might have said concerning his detention.

"I gathered that you are a very strict teacher and your methods are quite, how shall I say this? _Ruthless_."

"Sometimes force is necessary."

"Oh, I quite agree, in this case." She smiled a disgusting simpering smile.

He waited patiently for her to get to the point.

"My point is, Severus, that although your methods may be appropriate for such discipline, I find that another touch is needed to get results…"

"What results would those be?"

She continued rather smugly, "Longbottom is a very _special_ case and he needs to be handled with certain _care_."

"I fail to see your point."

"Well, in case you didn't notice, Longbottom's condition seems to be hereditary. I mean, what with his parents in St. Mungo's for mental illness—you see just how dangerous this situation really is…"

Severus could've smacked Umbridge right then and there.

Neville Longbottom's parents had been driven insane by the Cruciatus curse that was put on them by Bellatrix Lestrange—Lord Voldemort's most insidious and sadistic servant.

Severus knew the evil witch's taste in pain as Bellatrix had used that same curse on him while trying to find out whose side he was really on. Severus' body had never been the same since and it was the cause of his aching joints, premature arthritis, migraines and irregular heart beats. You were lucky to survive such a curse but he had paid his price.

Unfortunately, Neville Longbottom's parents had been forced to withstand the curse for longer than any one thought possible. Beyond breaking their bodies, the curse had broken their minds beyond repair and there was no cure.

That this horrible woman, Umbridge, should imply their insanity was heredity was unspeakable.

"I don't think Neville's mental state is any of your concern, Dolores." He abruptly stood up from his desk, "I have business to attend to." Severus strode to the door and opened it knowing that Umbridge needed no hint.

However, she remained seated and spoke to him from behind her back. "I understood that most teachers don't call their students by their first names—it's unprofessional."

He froze with his hand on the door.

"I would hate to think that anything _unprofessional_ has occurred between you and Longbottom, Severus."

Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

"No such thing has occurred and if you so much as think such a thought I will personally curse you myself and feed your disgusting carcass to my garfghoul where it will vomit you up into so much rotten slime."

This is what Severus should have said.

What came out instead was, "I think you should leave now, I must get back to the matter of Longbottom's detention."

Umbridge rose, vanishing her vulgar char, then stood to face him. "You will no longer be in charge of Longbottom's detention. He will serve out the remaining time with me."

She brushed past him in a flurry of pink frills.

"Good night, Severus."

He remained motionless at the door.

He stood there for several more moments.

Severus uttered a curse and threw the door shut with all of his might.

It slammed with an echoing crash the filled the entire dungeons.

Her face wouldn't leave his mind.

It chased him through his nightmares.

There was nowhere for him to run, everywhere he turned, she was right behind him, following, watching, waiting…

"I didn't do anything wrong!" He wanted to scream at her but all that came out was a hoarse whisper from his aching throat.

Umbridge just smiled that awful toothy grin.

Then suddenly her face changed and it became long and lean.

Neville thought it would be Professor Snape's face staring back at him but he was wrong.

The witch raised her wand and cackled the evil curse.

"Crucio!"

Bellatrix Lestrange's evil laughter turned into a high pitched screech.

It was too late.

Neville clamped his hands against his ears while the laughter shrilled through his brain.

"Oi! Neville!"

Someone was shaking him.

His eyes flew open to the glaring brightness of daylight.

"Time to get up! You don't want to miss breakfast."

It was Ron Weasley.

"Oh, sorry…" Neville mumbled to him but Ron was already on his way out. No doubt eating all he could to gear himself for the next Quidditch practice.

Neville rubbed his eyes and stared off into the window of their room in Gryffindor tower. There was frost on the ground and winter was already here. Soon the snow would fall and it would be Christmas.

Ordinarily Neville liked Christmas. His Gran always gave him nice presents, even if they weren't exactly what he wanted. One time he got a real yeti hair lined boots but couldn't wear them because he developed a nasty allergic rash to the hair.

He wondered what he would be getting this year.

While at the breakfast table he happened to spy Luna reading from the Quibbler.

"Trolls on the Loose? Where at?" Neville helped himself to some apple cobbler as he read the unbelievable headline.

"In London but they're invisible, of course." Luna never took her eyes off the newspaper while shoveling a great big spoonful of bread pudding into her mouth.

"Oh." He really didn't know what to say to that. "Christmas is coming up, do you have any plans?"

He should've known not to expect a real answer from Luna Lovegood because she only replied, "Father and I are going to look for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Again he was rendered speechless.

All he could do was eat in silence as he watched Luna's big blue eyes scan the Quibbler newspaper. A lock of her straggly blond hair fell right between her eyes and as usual, her wand was snuggled behind her ear.

She was really quite pretty when she wanted to be though.

Neville remembered the time she had dressed up during the Yule Ball when she had gone with some Ravenclaw Quidditch player.

Luna glanced up from her magazine and met his eyes.

Neville quickly looked down at his empty plate and scraped at it aimlessly.

His face felt hot all of a sudden.

"Shouldn't you be heading off to Charms with the rest of the Gryffindors?" Luna asked.

Neville suddenly looked at the suspended clock in the Great Hall. It was fifteen minutes after eight.

"Oh no! I'm late!" He nearly fell over the bench in his hurry but Luna had gone back to reading the Quibbler.

For some reason she had taken to sitting at the Gryffindor table at odd times, like breakfast. No one else bothered to tell her to go back to her own table with the Ravenclaws.

Neville had gotten used to her presence and was rather glad of it.

He felt his face grow warm again and hurried to charms.

As he stepped in the door, he just remembered he had forgotten his Charms homework, book and wand.

It was not a good start to the day.

The whole day had gone wrong somehow and all Neville could think was that it had started that way because of his horrible nightmare.

As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he paused for a moment.

He never told anyone about the strange conversation he had had with Umbridge. For some reason she made him uneasy and though he couldn't put his finger on it, he felt as if he had said something he shouldn't have.

Like a spider weaving a web, slowly, slowly, it would wrap around until it was finished and you were caught.

"Come in!"

Her voice rang out from behind the door and although Neville hadn't knocked it was if she had known he was standing there.

Neville braced himself and entered Umbridge's office, otherwise known as the place of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.

The inquisition began.

She was perched upon her fluffy pink armchair but this time there was no tea.

Although the garish decorations of kittens rambling amuck remained, Neville felt an ominous shadow fall across the room.

He sat in the plain wooden chair across her desk.

"I had a little chat with Professor Snape about your detention." She stared at him with her awful flat glaring eyes then went on. "Not to worry. He understands your situation and that you require special care—uh, attention, for your actions." She grinned but her flat eyes remained cold.

"So, what do I have to do?" Neville swallowed nervously and felt a dry click in his throat.

"You don't have to DO anything. We can just…chat."

"Ok."

She continued to stare at him.

"Ok, Professor Umbridge."

"Now then, why don't you tell me about what is happening with your friends?"

Immedietly a Quick-Quotes Quill flew out of her desk and onto a piece of parchment.

Neville stared at it with apprehension.

"This is so I can look back on our conversation of what you've said. It's to help you, Neville."

He nodded, not believing a word she said then began to talk.

"My friends are…busy, with school. I have meals with them and we study together sometimes."

He measured his words carefully then spoke again.

"I like being with my friends. We get along well. They are really great."

Umbridge snatched the Quick-Quotes Quill from the parchment suddenly.

"If this is to work, Neville, you need to be completely honest with me." She loomed over him from across her frilly laced desk. "This is so I can help you. I can't help you if you don't help yourself."

Neville thought he recognized this from one of their useless Defense Against the Dark Arts Theory book, the one where you would use psychological tactics against your opponent, supposedly before they could blast you into smithereens with a curse.

"Right. Well…to be honest, there's not much to say. Sometimes I don't talk to them much but that's because Harry and Ron are usually busy with Quidditch. The Weasley twins go off and do their own stuff, Ginny is usually with a boy and Luna is buried in her Quibbler newspaper."

He didn't think any of that could be used against him.

But Umbridge took him by surprise.

"They don't sound like your real friends. Real friends wouldn't ignore you like that, Neville. If they're too busy to even talk to you why should you trust them?"

"It's not like that at all," he quickly defended them, "It's just that we all have our own lives and it's Ok if we're not together all the time."

"And where are you when they're off doing 'their own things'?"

"I'm by myself…studying, I guess."

She nodded sympathetically but Neville could see her lips twitch as if to laugh.

"It sounds to me like you're often left alone. Do you feel alone, Neville?"

"Sometimes. I guess."

"Do they often leave you alone while they are off at one of their clubs?"

"Well, if it's Quidditch, then yes. I don't fly so I'm not in the club."

"What about their other clubs?"

"You mean like Gobbstones?"

"No, Neville. I mean their 'private' clubs."

"We don't have any…"

Neville looked as the Quick-Quotes Quill stopped scribbling suddenly. He had forgotten all about it as Umbridge hurled question after question at him.

He looked back at her and saw a greedy expectant look in her eyes.

"They're not private then? Anyone can join?"

He stared at the Quill.

"What do you call yourselves, Neville?"

"Uh, nothing."

"You must have a name for your…gathering."

"We don't have a gathering."

"What then? A meet-up? A rendezvous? What is it?"

Her tone was less than friendly. It was getting downright hostile.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're getting at." Neville could feel himself breaking out into a sweat.

She snatched the Quill and held it in her hand.

"You can tell me, Neville. This will just be between us."

He slowly shook his head then looked at her.

Her face showed an oddly crazed expression.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing to tell."

The Quill snapped in her pudgy hand and black ink splattered the paper and onto the pink lacy tablecloth.

Umbridge tossed the Quill and raised her wand.

Neville couldn't help but flinch.

She uttered a vanishing spell and the ink was gone.

"I'm very sorry to hear that you don't trust me, Neville. It seems that your friends have forced you into keeping their little secret. So unfortunate that they are using you in such a false manner."

Umbridge stood up and rolled the ink-stained parchment up.

"I can only hope that you will see them for what they really are."

Neville sat in the hard-backed wooden chair.

"Just remember, that unlike them, I'm your true friend. You can trust me, Neville."

He couldn't bring himself to answer so he just stared straight ahead of her desk. He saw a bit of black ink had stained her garishly pink dress. She hadn't seen it when she did her spell. The blots of ink looked like tiny dark holes eating the fabric away into her stomach.

"Am I excused from detention, Professor?"

"Yes, you may go, Neville."

He got up without a word and headed to the door. He cringed inwardly when she said his name again.

"Neville? You will come to me when you feel like talking?"

He nodded without looking at her and opened the door, feeling like a convict coming out of a prison chamber.

When he was down the hall, he pushed himself into a jog and ran as fast as he could to Gryffindor tower.

All of a sudden he felt very sick.

Severus reached the gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office. He said the password but they didn't move.

He cursed aloud.

"Blasted Dragon Piss!"

One of the gargoyles gave him the stink eye and said in a gravelly voice, "You there! Watch your language!"

"Oh shut up, you bloody gargoyle." Severus turned and ignored the stony retort. As usual he was in a bad mood.

After that Umbridge woman insulted him he was out of sorts. She made a disgusting accusation and he intended to straighten it out. Dumbledore should know that woman was spreading lies and no matter how outlandish they were she had to be stopped.

For some strange reason, the Headmaster wasn't there. He had even asked Minerva about it but she didn't seem to know either.

"He has his own reasons for being absent, Severus, I'm not privy to his private life." She had a stack of scrolls in her arms, though she should've finished correcting them already.

"In case you haven't noticed, now is not a good time to leave the school. I hear Cornelius Fudge may be coming here on a personal visit, courtesy of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, of course." Severus added.

"Inquisitor my foot! There will be no sacking of teachers around here I can assure you. It will take more than that woman's say so to get rid of us. I won't go without a fight!" Minerva adjusted her glasses with her free hand.

"You might want to pass that on to what's-her-face, oh yes, Trelawney. But then again, I'm sure she can foresee what's coming to her."

Minerva raised her brows but said nothing.

"When will Albus be back?" Severus inquired.

"That I do not know. If he hasn't told you where he has gone then I couldn't possibly guess." With those last words to him, Minerva McGonagall brushed by, robes aflutter.

Severus seethed and swore under his breath. He rounded the corner then slammed into something. Or rather someone.

It was a girl, a Ravenclaw girl. Worse yet, it was Lovegood, of the Loony Lovegood's.

She looked up at him with her big blue bulging eyes.

Severus' dry throat clicked as he tried to swallow. Unfortunately, he was staring right into those eyes.

Truth be told she gave him the creeps. There was just something about her big, bulging blue eyes that was—unsettling.

It was as if she were waiting for something to happen as she stared at him.

"Does she think my head will explode?" he thought.

He normally avoided her presence, even in class. She was just so—odd.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her harshly.

"I'm walking." Her answer was as vague as the look on her face.

"Why are you walking here?"

"I felt like it."

What an insolent brat. "Well, go do it someplace else."

He quickly moved around her and went on his way. He wasn't in the mood to deal with oddities and as usual, a migraine was building in his skull.

It was going to be another bad night.

Dolores tapped her nails impatiently on her desk. Her nails made smart little clicking sounds on the polished desk where she kept her pot of tea and her favorite pink rosebud teacup set.

She did not like to be kept waiting.

Not at all.

There was a loud pop sound followed by tiny tapping feet hurriedly making their way to her seat.

She got up and loomed over the elf.

"You have kept me waiting, Dobby. I do not like to wait." She gave him her most menacing smile.

That was her rule. Smile. Always smile, no matter what, even in the midst of anger. If one could smile through anything then one was capable of control.

The elf took a step back, its ears downcast, while its eyes shifted nervously from side to side.

She didn't like that at all.

"Look at me while I'm talking to you."

The elf complied but rather reluctantly.

"I want some answers and you are going to give them to me."

Dolores took out her wand. It wasn't necessary really, since the stupid elf could only follow orders and not disobey. Still, she liked to have it in her hand.

"What answers, ma'm?" The elf squeaked.

"I want to know what that boy Potter is up to, along with his little friends." She noticed the elf's eyes dart away at the boy's name but she pursued it. "Tell me what he is planning."

"Planning, ma'm?"

"Yes, planning! Stop repeating everything I say." She remembered to end it on a smile then began again.

"Did you not see Potter and his friends together, plotting something?"

The elf stood there stuttering and whimpering until it yelped out, "NO!" It hastily put its hand over its mouth.

"Did you not hear him saying something about anything?" She looked down upon the creature, staring at it.

Again, the creature seemed to shudder before uttering, "No…"

It seemed reluctant to answer her and yet the creature seemed to be telling her the truth.

"You are not hiding something from me?"

"I…uh…um…er…" The elf looked like it was almost choking.

"Out with it!" Dolores brought her wand down and red sparks flew out.

"NO!" Now the elf dissolved into tears.

Dolores' smile dissolved. "Leave." She motioned her hand at the creature, flicking her fingers in the air with distaste.

Another loud pop sounded and the elf was gone.

She was rather disappointed with the results. She was sure the elf was telling her the truth, though it was out of sorts. But elves were such strange creatures, there was no explaining their neurotic behavior.

Thank goodness there was the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! There was no telling what trouble those things would get into if it weren't for responsible wizards and witches to keep them in their place.

Still, Delores was troubled. She wasn't much closer to finding out what that Potter brat and those children were up to. The soon to be dismissed Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was surprisingly absent which was rather odd. But it was all to the good in case Cornelius should arrive and find the truth of the matter, which was that the school was headed in the wrong direction and it desperately needed a proper guide.

Dolores knew that she had been brought here for a reason. She had seen to it that Cornelius sent her instead of some bumbling idiot muggle-sympathizer to set things right.

Now that she was here it was time for action.

She headed to her own fireplace and gathered some floo powder from a jar. She threw the green glittering powder in and waited.

A pale drawn face with blond hair and sharp eyes looked back at her from within the fireplace.

Dolores spoke.

"Draco, I have a job for you."

She smiled.


End file.
